


Blood of the Covenant

by TiredofOldUsernamesMF



Series: Rakret H'ssti'er Verse: The Continuing Adventures [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Ableism, Adopted By and Entire Species, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Autistic Julian Bashir, Canonical Character Death, Cardassian Culture, Dominion prison, Genetic Engineering, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Beta, Rescue Missions, Smut, So'c Sense Is Really Useful, it's just a dream but still, overprotective lizard bfs, usual stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 77,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26120455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiredofOldUsernamesMF/pseuds/TiredofOldUsernamesMF
Summary: Things can't stop going wrong for Garak and Julian. There's kidnapping, secrets revealed, temporary insanity, refugees, impending war, and a ruined vacation.
Relationships: Jadzia Dax/Worf, Jake Sisko/Tora Ziyal, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Leeta/Rom (Star Trek), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Rakret H'ssti'er Verse: The Continuing Adventures [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827664
Comments: 78
Kudos: 35





	1. Terok Nor

Finally. The runabout was approaching the coordinates Garak had been sent. After over a month of waiting and being useless, he’d found his Julian.

The trip had been an unpleasant one. If Garak had to bring someone else along on his mission, someone Captain Sisko actually trusted, he would’ve preferred Odo or Dax or even Chief O’Brien to Worf. Whatever else could be said about Klingons, they weren’t boring. But, it seemed like being in Starfleet changed that. Worf was serious and quiet with no love of conversation. He sat at the controls of the runabout in silence. Garak had no idea how Dax, someone who seemed to enjoy life to the fullest, could put up with this brick wall of a man.

Still, Garak persevered. He tried to keep the conversation going, even if Worf ignored him. That’s what Julian would’ve done if it’d been him.

“So, it began when Julian and I returned from that lovely hospital on Trapis IV. We were allowed to fall back into the rhythms of our everyday lives, with the only thing that really stood out being our self-assigned job of integrating poor Kelas Parmak into life on the station. We had Narin’s help with that, but nothing could change the fact that many Bajorans thought that one Cardassian was too many on their station, and going up to three made them feel like it was the Occupation all over again. It didn’t matter that Narin and Kelas are the most harmless Cardassian men I’ve ever met, and I’ve met many.”

“We are now approaching the wormhole.”

“I can see that. You don’t need to give me status updates. Anyway, it mostly fell upon Narin and Julian to help Kelas, as I had quite a bit of community service to do.”

“You should’ve spent that time in prison.”

“Perhaps, but I’m not about to protest my own good fortune. Community service isn’t much of a punishment, really, but it did get in the way of more important things at times. The first time I was sent off the station was a bit of a nightmare.”

Worf wasn’t going to listen to the story, but Garak had thought about it and the memory wouldn’t go away.

…

_“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”_

_“Darling, I don’t think there’s much you can add to the discussion. I’d love to have you along, but I’m afraid Captain Sisko won’t allow it.”_

_“I get it. It’s just that something always seems to go wrong whenever we’re apart.”_

_“Are you certain you’re not upset because Ziyal will be accompanying me and you won’t be around to chaperone us?”_

_“Not at all. Though, I’m not quite sure if it’s a good idea for Ziyal to be attending the conference. Dukat’s daughter surrounded by angry Bajorans…It just sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”_

_“She was very insistent. She wants to mend the rift between her two peoples. Her idealism is borderline Federation!”_

_“Not to mention that she probably wants a new story to give Jake a reason to interview her again.”_

_“She has become quite close to young Sisko.”_

_“I’m all for it. The closer she gets to him, the less interest she has in you.”_

_“You really **are** jealous, aren’t you?”_

_“It’s for her own sake. It’s good for her to spend time around people her own age.”_

_“Fair enough. Now, I believe I’d best be going.”_

_“Be careful out there. Don’t say anything to inspire any Bajoran hate mobs.”_

_“I know better. Trust me.”_

_“Never.”_

_“Clever boy. I’ll be back within the week. Take care, my dear.”_

_“Take care, Elim. Nu ka zIra’I.”_

…

Garak had been signed up, only partially against his will, to attend a conference on Bajor, offering his own perspective on the Occupation. He was pretty sure this was Captain Sisko’s way of trying to kill him. Still, he went along. Sisko was invited as the Emissary, Odo as a non-Cardassian who worked with the Cardassians, Garak as a Cardassian who wasn’t officially assigned to Bajor, and Ziyal as the child of the oppressor and the oppressed.

The conference could’ve gone a lot worse. The Bajorans weren’t openly hostile to the Cardassian guests, for the most part. They certainly weren’t when their Emissary was watching. Of course, the moment he looked away, Garak was handed a name tag reading “Elim Garak: Former Cardassian Oppressor”. Garak wouldn’t have said anything if Ziyal’s tag didn’t read “Tora Ziyal: Daughter of a Collaborator”. It was hardly fair to her.

As for Garak’s perspective on the Occupation, no one was actually interesting in hearing it. The Cardassians had helped the Bajorans advance technologically and taught them how to properly keep records, among other things. They pointed out that his information came from Cardassian sources. Ziyal was accepted for the most part and probably would’ve been well liked if she hadn’t insisted that her father was a good man who did many great things for the Bajorans and deeply regretted the crimes he committed. Of course, her source for that information was the man himself.

Strangely, though he was far more obedient to Dukat than Garak ever was, Odo was quite popular on Bajor. Odo seemed as confused by this as Garak was.

“I tried to bring order to a chaotic situation. That’s all.”

“But, don’t you remember what the Moderator said? ‘You may have worked for the Cardassians, but your only master was Justice.’” 

Ziyal was proud of Odo and that was the end of that. When it came to moral matters, as long as it didn’t involve her father, what Ziyal said was what everyone went with.

The next thing he knew, he was on Terok Nor. Not Deep Space Nine, but Terok Nor. Some Bajoran was yelling at him and the others.

“No wonder the Cardassians think we’re animals!”

Apparently, the man didn’t notice that he was speaking to a Cardassian. Actually, the entire station didn’t seem to notice that he was Cardassian. He was wearing Bajoran clothing, as were the others.

Okay, if his fellow Cardassians didn’t see him as Cardassian all he’d need to do is convince them to look with their so’cs instead of their eyes. He had his own memories, so he wasn’t under deep cover, so there wasn’t anything masking his Cardassian pheromones.

Then again, a Bajoran with Cardassian pheromones wouldn’t exactly be uncommon on Terok Nor. Usually it just meant that the Bajoran had had some sort of sexual contact with a Cardassian male. So, explaining the situation would probably land them somewhere worse than nowhere.

Garak decided to switch his focus to Ziyal, who’d just spotted her father. She wasn’t stupid enough to try and get him to recognize her. The main concern was that Dukat could see them and he saw four Bajorans. He was speaking with Thrax, Odo’s predecessor. They were at least nine years in the past, far back enough that the child Ziyal was still around somewhere.

Two soldiers approached the group, interested in whoever they thought Ziyal was. Sisko was quick to assume that she was being arrested for a crime and thought they’d read out the charges.

“What’s she done?”

“Nothing. Yet. Come on.”

Garak hadn’t been so quick to assume. Ziyal most likely looked like a pretty Bajoran female and Dukat had seen her. During the brief time he’d spent on Terok Nor when it was still Terok Nor, he’d seen this happen several times. Dukat would regularly have women detained to become his new mistresses. If they weren’t interested, they’d already been detained, so it could retroactively be made into an arrest for a made-up crime that warranted a quick execution. The women often preferred execution to being thought of as a collaborator and giving themselves to an oppressor.

Well, this would be more unpleasant for poor Ziyal than for those Bajoran women. Garak had to get her out of it. Even if she somehow didn’t mind, he couldn’t let it happen.

“Perhaps there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. If I may be so bold…You may find something which will bring you infinitely more profit than the arrest of a Bajoran woman.”

“Latinum?”

“Two strips.”

“Where is it?”

“Our friend is still in custody.”

Most of the common soldiers Garak had met were more interested in latinum and the drinks and holosuite programs they could buy with it than they were in doing their duty. It was disgusting, but it worked to his advantage.

But, not this time. Dukat was nearby, so the response to the bribe was a punch in the face. This was one of those days when Garak missed his implant. Those were the days when he’d pick fights with drunks in bars for the thrill of being hit. Of course, if it had actually hurt, he wouldn’t have done it.

Actually, though he did miss his implant, he currently longed for its recent replacement of having Julian there to patch him up. He’d seek out opportunities for that, but Julian would figure it out and put a stop to it. There were far better ways of getting his attention.

As his nose began to stop bleeding, Garak could imagine lying on a biobed in the infirmary, his Julian running some device over him to make the bleeding stop, asking him what they hell he’d done this time:

_“Was it Klingons again?”_

_“No, dear, it was one of my fellow Cardassians.”_

_“You really must be more careful, Elim. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”_

_“For your sake, I’ll make my best effort. Now, when does your shift end?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any views expressed by Elim Garak regarding Star Trek characters and Occupations do not necessarily represent those of the author of this fic.


	2. A Stranger With a Father's Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziyal has to play the role of a Bajoran woman that caught Gul Dukat's eye. She sees a side to her father that she was never supposed to see.
> 
> CW: Dukat doesn't know it, but he hits on Ziyal. She plays the same role that Dax played in Things Past, the episode these early chapters are based on. I made this switch because it's supposed to be the start of an actual character arc for Ziyal. She's been told many things about her father, but she's never seen them. This is her seeing what he's like when she's not around.

Ziyal had never been afraid of her father, not even in the moment he almost killed her. But, now that she appeared to be someone else, things were different. Narin had told her that her father was on his best behavior around his children, but if they weren’t around, he was a different person. Ziyal was about to meet that person. This was the man who had innocent people killed, who tricked Bajoran women into thinking they loved him and that he loved them. It seemed like she’d taken the form of one of those women. He’d have no idea that he was speaking to his own daughter. If it was really nine years ago, as Garak had implied, her younger self was around somewhere.

But, that meant that her mother was around as well. How often did he cheat on her? Ziyal knew about Loral Perin, so she knew it’d happened before, but how many were there? She could vaguely remember a woman that was probably Perin, but no others. If her father had taken a new mistress when she was eleven years old, she wasn’t informed. If there were others after Perin, he’d kept them hidden. Mother didn’t seem to object to them, so Ziyal wondered why. Was it for her sake?

…

_2358:_

_Father was home. He looked tired, like he always did, but he smiled at Ziyal when she ran to great him._

_“Father! I made a picture for you! See?”_

_“In Kardasi, Ziyal.”_

_He’d been teaching her to speak his language. She preferred Bajoran, honestly. It was what Mother spoke and most of the words she heard outside were Bajoran. She sometimes heard people singing songs, praising the Prophets. Even the spoken words were musical._

_But, if Father wanted her to speak Kardasi, she would._

_“Yadik! Nu loxka peCh ket’a!”_

_“Hi zahsev’I, Ziyallin. Vess’net. Nu lehter loxka cigren’a.”_

**_“It’s beautiful, dear Ziyal. Very good. I got something for you.”_ **

_“Chek hi’o?”_

**_“What is it?”_ **

_“Ka visf’I.”_

**_“Look.”_ **

_It was a doll. A beautiful Bajoran doll, its dress sewn and face painted by hand._

_“Si zahsev’I! Turessin, Yadik!”_

**_“She’s beautiful! Thank you, Father!”_ **

_“Nu perrik’I. Sepnu ka virater’I”_

**_“You’re welcome. You’re everything to me.”_ **

_“Cerd’nu jox Bajoraji’I’o?”_

**_“May I speak Bajoran now?”_ **

_“To’pey.”_

**_“Later.”_ **

…

She was in Father’s office. She’d been allowed in there once or twice, when she was curious about his work. Now, she stood there as someone else. He looked the same as he did back then, but his eyes were different. The way he looked at her was strange. She was being examined, somehow. She found herself avoiding his eyes, acknowledging him as a powerful Gul for the first time.

“Name?”

Ziyal couldn’t give her real name. It was a Cardassian name. She just used the first Bajoran girl name that came into her head.

“Mursa.”

“Look at me when I speak to you, Mursa.”

A firm command. This man sounded nothing like her father. She forced herself to look into his cold, examining eyes. He gestured for her to spin, so he could see her from all angles, making it all too clear what she’d been brought here for.

Ziyal couldn’t run. There was no way out. She had to play her part. Father didn’t know it was her. It wasn’t her that he was looking at in that cold way.

…

_2361:_

_Ziyal hugged her Father as he stepped through the door. He was finally home. He’d had some business on Cardassia and he had to see his Cardassian family. She wished she could meet them. She liked the idea of having brothers and sisters. But, it wasn’t allowed. Father said it wasn’t safe. He didn’t say she wouldn’t be welcome, but that’s what he meant._

_At least he was home now._

_“Father!”_

_“Ziyal! I missed you so much!”_

_“Mother made me a new dress. Did you notice?”_

_“Of course I did. You look lovely. Twirl for me so I can see the whole thing.”_

_Ziyal twirled too many times and got dizzy. Father caught her when she fell and they both laughed._

…

“She’ll do.”

The guard left them alone. Ziyal was truly alone, trapped with this stranger who wore her father’s face. Maybe, if she acted like herself, he’d see her. He wouldn’t know who she was, but maybe she’d feel like his daughter to him.

“Kanar.” He ordered. Ziyal filled his glass.

“For two.”

It was like she was being ordered to enjoy herself. But, she obeyed. 

“Have you ever had kanar?”

“No.”

Father had discouraged her from drinking alcohol when they were on Cardassia. The kanar served at events there was very strong and he worried it would make her sick.

“Then this is an occasion.”

Ziyal had imagined that the first time she tried kanar would be behind her father’s back. She wouldn’t be able to hide it, but he’d see that she was fine and they’d laugh the whole thing off. 

“Why, you’re trembling! Despite what you may have heard, I’m a fair man, Mursa. Rest assured, you have nothing to fear from me. I didn’t bring you here to be abused.”

“Then…why am I here?”

Narin had said that her father preferred to gain his mistresses without violence. Perhaps his plan here was to be friendly and get her drunk. If she was going to be stuck in this role, maybe it would be better to be intoxicated for it.

“It may surprise you to hear this, but my position is a lonely one. I’m isolated from the people who live under my protection. I require someone to talk with. In short: a friend.”

“But why do you want me to be your friend? There are so many people on this station. Why do I stand out?”

“You wonder why I chose a simple Bajoran girl to share my inner thoughts with? Why not? Something about you simply caught my eye. I just know that you’re the sort of person who’d want to understand me, to get to know me. As you get to know me, Mursa, I think you’ll find that I’m a…complicated man.”

When they lived on Cardassia together, Ziyal was the one trusted with her father’s inner thoughts. He talked to her about whatever was on his mind. Did he somehow sense her in this form? Perhaps he really did just want a confidant. It seemed unlikely, impossible actually. She knew what the looks he was giving her meant.

“You’re…different than I imagined.”

“To the beginning of your education.”

He raised his glass in the Human way, for some reason. Thinking of Cardassians and Humans reminded her of Garak and Doctor Bashir. Was she allowed to call him Julian? Probably. Well, when she was allowed to spend time with the pair, she noticed how they flirted. Garak had taught Julian everything he knew about Cardassian language, government, history, and culture. He was also apparently the first man he’d ever been intimate with. They often joked about his role as an educator. In reality, through exchanging literature, they studied each other’s cultures. They both learned from each other, but they’d occasionally playfully act like they were less equal than they actually were.

…

_Around Two Months Ago:_

_“So, Elim, **The Bloom of the Night Flower** was…different from what you’ve given me before.”_

_“Did you like it?”_

_“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I did, especially the scenes where Gul Surat and Glinn Forrain were alone together.”_

_“I thought those might interest you.”_

_“Purely as a study of a new aspect of Cardassian culture, of course.”_

_“Of course. It’s just a new edition to your…education.”_

_“Well, I did learn a lot. I never would’ve guessed that those lower ridges behind the ajan were so sensitive, nor that they were associated with virility…”_

_“Enough for male children to occasionally be named after them.”_

_“If I knew that that’s what Ortek meant, I’d have found him far less intimidating.”_

_“Well, now that I know you’re not intimidated by the ortek, tonight’s lesson will be exactly how to touch them.”_

_“I’ve done the assigned reading and now I’m being tested?”_

_“We’ll see. Right now, I think you might be interested in knowing that Ziyal is close enough to have heard everything we just said.”_

_“Why didn’t you tell me?!”_

_“Mainly because I looked forward to seeing this reaction.”_

_“Damn you, Elim!”_

_“Now you’re courting me like a Cardassian! Very good…”_

_“Just you wait until tonight. I’ll show you exactly how good I can be!”_

_“You always are, dear. I couldn’t ask for a better student in the art of Cardassian mating.”_

_“Not in front of Ziyal!”_

_“Fine, fine…I’ll end this with a toast to your continuing education.”_

_The two men raised their glasses, never seeming to care that Ziyal had just stood and stared throughout their entire conversation._

…

It had been funny then. It wasn’t so funny anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last exchange between Garak and Julian has a bit of a story to it.
> 
> This is sort of a reference to When the Farsei Blooms, which would be my favorite Garashir fic of all time if it was finished. The Cardassian anatomy in the fic is a bit different from what's commonly used in the fandom in the present and Cardassians are described as having ridges on their buttocks that are erogenous zones. They're referred to as ortek at least once. When I wrote the first story in this series and named Ortek Devar, I'd completely forgotten about this, but when I re-read the fic and found out, I thought the coincidence was hilarious, so I had to bring it up.


	3. Jillur Gueta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak finds out who he is and what's supposed to happen in whatever fever dream or simulation he's trapped in. He's understandably worried about Ziyal.

Once the bloody nose ceased to be bloody, Garak’s next objective was to not panic about Ziyal. Odo seemed to think that she could’ve been selected for a variety of reasons, but he knew better. Dukat was looking for a new sex toy. As unpleasant as that would be for anybody, it would be even worse for that poor girl to be used and abused by her own father in that way. But, there was nothing he could do at the moment. He had to focus on getting everyone out of there. Luckily, he was able to make something useful of the altercation with the guard. He’d grabbed a comp-link.

One high-level code was all that was needed to find out who the people of Terok Nor saw when they looked at them.

“Well Captain, it seems you’re actually a Bajoran electronics engineer…you’re thirty-eight years old…you have no criminal record…your family resides in Rakantha province…and your name is Ishan Chaye.”

Odo didn’t appear to like this name. Ignoring that, Garak discovered his own identity.

“Oh, lucky me. I’m an artist.”

It seemed that every other Bajoran was an artist or from the caste of artists these days.

“I’m fifty-five…been arrested three times for disturbing the peace…somehow managing to survive that despite the harsh penalties of the Occupation…I also come from Rakantha…and my name is Jillur Gueta.”

The first name “Gueta” didn’t sound very masculine to Garak and he wasn’t quite that old yet, but he hadn’t gotten to choose his identity. Odo didn’t seem to like this name very much either. As for the Constable’s identity, he already knew it.

“I’m a bookkeeper. Forty-six years old. I have a wife and two sons in Rakantha Province. And my name is Timor Landi.”

When Sisko asked him how he knew that, he was quite reluctant to answer, allowing them to be swept away by a distraction. Said distraction took the form of Quark, offering cheap labor to the three Bajoran slaves he saw. Considering that they were otherwise slaves, this was the closest to charity anyone was going to give them. Rather generous for a Ferengi. From anyone else, it would be exploitation of the powerless. This situation had both Constable and Captain behaving in the sort of manner that Julian would’ve scolded Garak for.

“How much damage would it do to the timeline if Quark were to suffer a mysterious…accident?”

“I’m not sure. But maybe we should conduct a little experiment and find out…”

They had to spend the next twelve hours slaving away in Quark’s bar, cleaning up after the most inconsiderate Cardassians Garak had ever seen. He was beginning to suspect that they were spilling drinks on purpose, just to make these random Bajorans suffer.

“I had no idea we were such messy conquerors. I remember the Occupation as being a little more tidy than this.”

Sisko, despite being a captain raised in paradise, seemed to have no objections to the hard labor.

“Everything’s tidy when someone else is doing the cleaning.”

Of course, the Garak family was from the serving-class. His mother was a housekeeper and his uncle, who pretended to be his father and was better at it than the real one, was a gardener. Before he knew that he was the son of Enabran Tain, he had to do quite a bit of menial labor for him.

_“Do your chores, Elim.”_

Garak decided it was best not to think about that. He did what he always did when he didn’t want to think. He’d say what he knew he was supposed to say.

“The Bajorans were more suited to this sort of work than we were. Servile work is in their nature.”

Garak had believed this when he was taught about Bajor in school. He believed it when he began his exile on Terok Nor. Now, he didn’t know what he believed, but Cardassia believed that the best thing the Bajorans could do was to serve them. It wasn’t an insult. Cardassians served Cardassia and Bajorans served Cardassians. It was an honor, in a way.

Alright, it wasn’t. Garak knew that it wasn’t. He knew that when he was exiled, an outcast, the only reason he wasn’t the lowest of the low was that the Bajorans were beneath him. Cardassia Prime wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. The State was formed so Cardassia might restore its strength. The Cardassian people became tougher, more disciplined, but there were still shortages, long droughts that turned rainforests into deserts. Then, they found Bajor. The Bajorans were not tough. The Bajorans were not disciplined. But, Bajor flourished all on its own. Those who worked hard barely survived while those who did nothing but pray all day lived in luxury. The Occupation was meant to even things out.

But, evening things out hadn’t made Cardassia recover.

This train of thought was pointless. It wasn’t making laboring under Quark any easier, it wasn’t helping Ziyal, and it wasn’t getting him home, to the version of this station where Julian was waiting.

Where was Julian now? Garak had guessed that they’d traveled back to around 2364, so he’d be around twenty-three years old, still at Starfleet Academy. Was he lonely there? Did he have friends? Who was he eating lunch with? Who was he sleeping next to?

It was hard for Garak to focus on Sisko and Odo’s conversation, but Odo had revealed why he knew about the identity of Timor Landi.

“I recognized the other two names from the security files kept during the Occupation. Timor, Ishan, and Jillur were the names of three Bajorans who were accused of attempting to assassinate Gul Dukat on the Promenade.”

But, these three were innocent. Garak didn’t really care at the moment. What mattered was that they were publicly executed. He was really beginning to suspect that Odo was hiding something. He’d already been reluctant to reveal how he knew who Timor Landi was, but it weirder. He overheard Thrax talking to Quark, having the same sort of conversation he often had with Odo, which sounded quite flirtatious when a Cardassian was involved. But, the topic of discussion threw everything into question.

“Something’s wrong. Thrax was talking about a Captain Livara.”

“That name mean something to you?”

“Livara wasn’t just another smuggler. He was a Romulan spy and he didn’t begin working in this sector until seven years ago. But seven years ago, Thrax wasn’t on Terok Nor. Odo was.”

It was easy to confirm what was really going on via the comp-link. The year was 2366.

“Thrax shouldn’t be here. You should be the Security Chief.”

Odo changed the subject to getting out before they all got killed. He didn’t want to discuss this and it wasn’t as important as not being executed. Garak’s theory was that this was a simulation of some kind. If they’d actually time-traveled, there wouldn’t be obvious inaccuracies. Perhaps the simulator wouldn’t know what to do with Odo of 2366 and Odo as Timor Landi in the same place and altered the former to look like Thrax to them to avoid confusion. This didn’t explain where they were, why the simulation existed, or how they got there, but it was a start.

Sisko’s plan was to have the Bajoran Resistance smuggle them off the station. Garak didn’t like the idea of leaving his life in the hands of people who’d swiftly end it if they knew who he really was, and nobody had said anything about how they were going to rescue Ziyal, but he also had the feeling that the simulation was leading him down an inevitable path, one that couldn’t actually kill him if this was really just a simulation, so he followed the path in silence.

As they waited for the Resistance to help them, all they had to do to summon them was flip a vase, Dukat entered the Promenade with Ziyal. She didn’t appear to have been injured. She was too close to Dukat for him to confirm whether or not he’d marked her. Considering how long they’d been alone together, it was a possibility.

Whatever he’d done, Dukat was at his most obnoxious.

“Look at him. The Commander of Terok Nor. Just another swaggering, self-important Gul with too much vanity and not enough ability.”

Why couldn’t one of those assassination attempts have been successful? He could’ve been dead years before Garak arrived on Terok Nor. He wouldn’t have been able to kidnap Julian.Then again, if it weren’t for him, Ziyal would still be a prisoner of the Breen and she didn’t deserve that. But, Garak couldn’t stop himself from wishing that Jillur had tried to assassinate Dukat, just to know that he was playing the part of someone who tried to do what he longed to do.

But, Dukat continued on his way, bragging to Ziyal about all the good he’d done for the Bajorans. Garak could tell that she hadn’t actually seen much of the Bajoran sector during her childhood on the station. She didn’t know how bad it really was. Of course she’d been told about it by multiple people, but seeing it for her own eyes was a new experience. 

Garak was impressed by how well Ziyal hid her fear and shock. But, things would only get worse for her and he knew she wouldn’t last. He could only hope he was nearby to catch her when she fell.

A member of the Bajoran Resistance arrived to talk to them. He was the man who’d yelled at them earlier. Garak already didn’t like the man, and he suspected he was one of _those_ members of the Resistance. There were two kinds. Most of them were fighting to end the Occupation, but a few were more interested in revenge, in killing as many Cardassians as possible. They did it for fun.

“We’re not a commuter service. If you’re running from a dispute over chemicals or women or smuggling, you’re on your own. If you’ve killed one of the spoonheads…well, that’s different.”

Garak’s suspicions were confirmed. The Federation soldiers that’d fought against Cardassians often called them Cardies, which was rude, but spoonhead, a rather childish-sounding insult, was only used by those who liked killing them. The childishness wasn’t all it seemed. The chufa, the “spoon” to which the insult referred was an important symbol to Cardassians. Bajorans associated their ears with a sort of life force, Trapisans associated their fifth eyes with protection and self-preservation, and Cardassians associated the chufa with the mind behind it. The chuva was the sexual self, the chula was the physical self, and the chufa was the disciplined mind, the highest self. It was an insult to Cardassian discipline and dignity.

Sisko continued to fail to convince the Bajoran bastard to help them. Garak was almost thankful when their conversation was interrupted by an explosion. There was that assassination attempt they were about to be framed for. It seemed that what happened was that these three Bajorans didn’t run away from the site of the explosion like the others were smart enough to do. 

But, when the smoke cleared, Garak saw both Dukat and Ziyal battered and bloody. That was why they didn’t run. Whoever Ziyal was supposed to be was a friend of theirs. Sisko boldly ran in to help Ziyal, forcing Odo to follow him. But, Sisko wasn’t the first to move. Garak was. He had no idea if Ziyal’s counterpart survived the explosion. He had to get to her.

“Ziyal!”

She was alive, slipping into unconsciousness, but alive. Garak reached out to take her hand. He grabbed her and ran. He had to carry her and the situation reminded him far too much of when he’d rescued Julian under the spell of Rakret H’ssti’er. He didn’t go into such a state now. Ziyal was not his mate. He felt like he was carrying a child in his arms. His own child, perhaps. Being with Palandine, seeing her with her daughter, had made Garak often imagine having one of his own. Ziyal was a bit like Kel, the sweet daughter of a terrible man.

The fate of Jillur was inevitable. A swarm of Cardassian soldiers surrounded them. Garak was slammed to the ground, Ziyal taken from his arms to be returned to Dukat. The next thing he knew, he was in a cell with Sisko and Odo, surrounded by other Bajoran prisoners, pleading their innocence. Garak could tell that they were all telling the truth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this whole Swap Dax For Ziyal to Give Her More of an Arc plan has hit a bit of a snag. Dax eventually knocks Dukat out and hacks a computer to help her friends escape and Ziyal is capable of neither of those things, so I had to come up with another way for her to escape and the only solution I could find was "convince him to let everyone go somehow". The next chapter will elaborate more on this, but I'm adding a bit of a warning in advance that this subplot took a darker turn than I expected it to. 
> 
> I'm rolling with it because I think what I've written works, but I guess this is what happens when I read episode scripts for episodes I haven't gotten around to only after I outline the chapters based on them.


	4. Batare Made a Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak broods in a cell until Ziyal comes to the rescue. Unable to overpower Dukat to save Garak, Sisko, and Odo, Ziyal had to convince the Gul to let them go. She won't say how.
> 
> CW: Strongly implied incest (nothing is shown), a sexual situation in which nobody technically gave informed consent and that also didn't actually happen so I'm not exactly sure what to call it, and a reference to a suicide bombing (another Dukat assassination attempt, if that helps). There are also a few references to torture and labor camps, because it's the Bajoran Occupation.

“You’d think they’d put us in our own cell block, instead of with the common criminals. After all, we’re accused of attempting to assassinate the station commander. That deserves some respect.”

Garak just didn’t want to hear the noise anymore. If he was to be executed, he’d rather they just shoot him and get it over with. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to these people, or to Ziyal.

Thrax, a Thrax who should’ve been Odo, called for order.

“Kara Polus, Brin Tusk, and Marat Kobar: Your sentence is five years, hard labor.”

If they already worked in ore processing, Garak wasn’t sure what hard labor would mean for them. It probably meant a slow execution by meaningless work in a camp.

“Benten Vek: your fine has been paid and you’ll be free to go within the hour.”

Lucky bastard.

“Lobo, Horis, Romara, Pelin, and Gramm, you’re being transferred to Cardassian authorities on Bajor for interrogation.”

Garak highly doubted that any of them would survive. He’d heard the name of a Romara Cal who died in interrogation on Bajor. Perhaps the Romara Thrax referred to was her.

It was their turn. Sisko and Odo still wanted to argue. Garak at first just wanted to hear Jillur’s story. He’d only just arrived on Terok Nor, possibly as a free man. The same was true of Timor and Ishan, and probably of whoever Ziyal was as well. Jillur had three cousins in the Bajoran Resistance.

“You were seen rushing towards Dukat after the explosion. Everyone else was running away.”

Of course the assassins would’ve run away as well. It would be idiocy to stick around. They would’ve ended up arrested like the three innocents were.

Thrax turned to Garak, though he hadn’t said anything.

“The report of the Cardassian guards states that you were found over the body of Gul Dukat, trying to strangle him.”

As many times as he’d dreamed of doing exactly that, Garak wasn’t that stupid. The guards saw him trying to take Ziyal away and felt like it was a slight against their precious Gul.

“That’s a lie. My friend was injured in the explosion and I was there to help her.”

“The girl you attempted to kidnap?”

Odo pleaded for Thrax to conduct a proper investigation. Considering how many crimes were committed on the station at once, it didn’t seem like he had the time to bother with any of them. It was shamefully lazy, but Thrax seemed to be making an attempt to be fair.

More time passed. Garak practiced an excuse that he knew wouldn’t work. He knew he couldn’t claim that he was a Cardassian altered to appear Bajoran and even if he was, he’d just be a Cardassian who attempted to assassinate Dukat, a traitor aiding the Bajoran Resistance. Meanwhile, Sisko didn’t think Thrax was oppressive enough to be Cardassian and wondered what Odo knew about this.

Then, Ziyal ran in and entered a code to turn off the forcefield of their cell. The girl was trembling, but she didn’t appear to be hurt. Her wounds from the explosion had been healed and she hadn’t gained any new ones. She signaled for the others to follow her.

“Don’t ask questions. I talked Dukat into letting you go.”

“May I ask how?” Sisko asked.

“I said not to ask questions! Now, let’s get out of here. Dukat’s personal shuttle is at Docking Bay Three. Security has been informed not to stop us. We’re going to Cardassia. Let’s go!”

Well, it was better than execution. Garak wondered if he’d run into his past self at some point. He blocked out his emotional reactions to Ziyal’s situation. There was a question lingering that he could easily answer without asking. He didn’t. It was a bad time and he didn’t want any more reasons to panic. When they were safe, he’d investigate, but now was not the time.

As they ran to the shuttle, Ziyal spoke, not seeming to be speaking to anyone in particular.

“I’m Lirbul Batare. I’m twenty-five years old. I’m from Rakantha Province. I lost all my family. I had nowhere else to go and I ended up here. I was an artist’s apprentice before I came here. My mentor was Jillur Gueta. I don’t know what’s supposed to happen to me, but I changed history. I made a choice. Batare made a choice.”

“If Lirbul Batare was involved with Dukat after this point, I’m changing that history no matter the cost.”

Ziyal didn’t respond, as if she didn’t hear Garak at all. She kept talking to herself.

“I made a choice. Batare made a choice. I’m Lirbul Batare.”

The same thing over and over. Garak started to wonder if this was a nightmare. He hoped it was.

Thrax appeared in front of them. He suddenly turned to goo. He was a Changeling. Thrax was Odo. That was obvious. That still explained nothing. It didn’t explain how they were somehow back in their cell as if nothing had happened.

A soldier entered, the same one who’d taken Ziyal to Dukat. History was so off-kilter that Garak was certain he could kill the man without changing anything.

“We just got the word: your execution’s been scheduled for nineteen hundred. That’s two hours from now.”

He walked away. With the forcefield up, Garak couldn’t touch him.

Sisko continued to interrogate Odo. He seemed to be the key to this mess. Garak knew that if he helped out, if he asked the right questions, he could be of service, but he couldn’t focus on anything but Ziyal. She was sitting in the back corner of the cell, staring straight ahead as if in a trance. Garak wondered if this was what Julian was like after Tain. He wasn’t there. He came in later. Now, he was right here just after something happened to Ziyal and he had no idea what to say or do.

Unlike with Julian, he didn’t touch her. The touch of an older Cardassian man was probably the last thing she wanted at the moment.

“I don’t have high standards for Dukat’s behavior, but I can tell you that he never would’ve done this if he knew it was you.”

“It wasn’t me. It was Batare. Batare made a choice.”

“Ziyal didn’t make that choice.”

“Dukat was waiting for Batare to come to him. Batare didn’t have to do anything.”

“He wanted Batare to believe that, but he would’ve gotten tired of waiting eventually. Batare had no real choice, just an illusion of one.”

“But it was really Ziyal’s choice. Batare didn’t save her friends in real life. It was my choice, my fault…”

“Your friends lives were hanging in the balance because of him. Someone hated him so much that he tried to kill him and let three innocent men take the fall for it. If Dukat weren’t a tyrant, none of this would’ve happened.”

“People told me. Everyone told me my father was a terrible dictator who abused Bajoran women. I believed them, but I didn’t feel it. He didn’t feel that way to me. I understand now.”

“You shouldn’t have had to find out this way.”

“When Father found me, when he rescued me, he planned to kill me at first. I said if I couldn’t be with him, I’d rather die. So many people were put in a situation where they had to be with him or die. I brought it on myself when I said it.”

“That’s not what you meant.”

“Was it? I had strange dreams about Father. It was only once or twice”

“We can’t control our dreams, Ziyal. Was this when you were living on Cardassia?”

“Yeah.”

“He was the only person you were close to there, the only person who treated you with any kindness, the only important person in your life at the time. You mind probably just had nowhere else to go. Ziyal, do you blame yourself for this?”

“It was a choice that I made! He didn’t know it was me. It was something I did to him. I used him just like he used Batare. Why shouldn’t I blame myself?”

“You were just trying to save our lives.”

“I could’ve tried to just hit him and knock him out when his back was turned, but I’m not strong enough. Even if I was, he’s still my Father. I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t bring myself to.”

“I understand, Ziyal. You did what you believed you had to do. If I’d been in your place, if I was in some disguise around Tain and needed to save your life, I might’ve done the same thing.”

Ziyal embraced him, so he embraced her back. He was gentle. He did nothing but hold her while she leaned against him. Garak knew what to do to comfort Julian during moments like this. They’d gotten to know each other well enough that Garak could accurately guess how he’d react to certain behaviors. He wasn’t as sure with Ziyal. So, he followed her lead.

Odo was allowed to speak to Thrax in private. Now it seemed that people saw Ziyal as Timor Landi. She seemed to accept that fate a bit too eagerly. Garak, Ziyal, and Sisko were lined up for execution. Dukat appeared to make a speech. Garak didn’t listen. Ziyal gripped his hand tightly enough to cut off circulation.

At the last minute, Odo and Thrax came in.

“They haven’t done anything! They don’t belong here!”

“It’s already happened, Odo.”

“But this isn’t what happened. It wasn’t these people.”

Odo pushed Thrax aside and physically stopped the executioner from firing.

“No! I won’t let this happen! Not again!”

He turned to Thrax.

“You can’t execute them. You don’t belong here. I do.”

And then Garak was back in his own clothes seeing the place where he just was from a distance. He turned to Ziyal, who hadn’t let go of his hand. The same thing had happened to her. Along with Sisko and Odo, they stood and watched the past. There sounds of a disruptor firing and Timor Landi, Ishan Chaye, and Jillur Gueta hit the ground one by one. The Odo of the past looked on without interest.

The present Odo explained.

“I was chief of security on the Promenade. I was the one who charged those men with a crime they didn’t commit…and I was the one who turned them over to Dukat. Three days after the executions, there was another bombing on the Promenade identical to the one that almost killed Dukat. The bomber died in the explosion, most likely deliberately. Her name was Lirbul Batare and she’d set the bomb on the Promenade, deliberately attracted Dukat’s attention, and then led him to what she intended to be his demise. Timor, Ishan, and Jillur were innocent.”

As a Changeling, he cared more about order than justice at the time and went for an easy answer.

“I thought of myself as the outsider, the Shapeshifter who cared only about justice. It never occurred to me that I could fail…But I did. And I’ve never wanted anyone to know the truth: that seven years ago, I allowed three innocent men to die.”

Suddenly, Garak was lying on a bio-bed in the infirmary. Odo, Ziyal, and Sisko, were as well. When it was clear that he was awake, Julian ran to Garak’s side.

“Rest, Elim. You need it.”

“When that guard punched me, I thought I could feel you treating my bloody nose.”

“It was actually a nurse who did that. She got there before I did.”

“Pity…What happened to us, anyway? Did whatever happened to us actually happen?”

Did it matter? Ziyal made a choice as Batare that the real Batare most likely made, but Ziyal was never there and nothing she experienced had physically happened. Garak couldn’t taste any mark on his so’c around her. It was a shared nightmare that they’d all had together. But, they’d experienced it clearly. Ziyal would be stuck with this memory of something that never happened, but it would always be real to her.

Julian eventually guessed that the plasma storm they’d traveled through caused a telepathic response that caused Odo to trap them all in some version of the Great Link. He was thinking about those executions, so they all had to live that moment. One brief moment of guilt had led to all of this.

When Garak and Julian got some time alone together, he told him what happened to Ziyal.

“I don’t know exactly what transpired between the two of them, only that it was sexual in nature. She did it to help us, but because she made a conscious decision, consented in some small way, she blames herself. Worst of all, it technically never happened.”

“That’s a good thing though, isn’t it? It never happened.”

“Whether it happened or not, she experienced it.”

“I’ll ask Counselor Razha to speak with her. Even if it was just a very vivid nightmare, we’ll have to treat it as if it really happened, at least when it comes to how we address her. Dukat actually didn’t do anything this time.”

“It’s one thing I believe he wouldn’t do. If he’d known that it was Ziyal who was living in that moment, feeling and experiencing everything, his reaction could be mistaken for that of a decent person.”

The talk just sort of ended there. There wasn’t much left to say. Garak welcomed a good night’s sleep. He’d visit Ziyal in the morning, make sure that she was recovering. It almost felt like Tain all over again, but instead of his lover, it was his child who suffered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I put a Noncon warning on this fic? Ziyal didn't want to do what she did, but if Dukat knew who she was, neither would he. It was also All Just a Dream and we never find out exactly what happened.
> 
> If people want a noncon warning on this fic, I'll add one, but the situation's so confusing that I'm not sure what to call it. I'll call it whatever the comments call it, because either way makes sense to me.


	5. Children's Literature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With help from Jake, Ziyal turns to art as a way of working through her feelings. Their combined efforts result in a picture book, which Garak has a copy of.

_“Hey, Ziyal. Going for a walk, too? Sometimes going for a walk at night can really clear your head.”_

_“Good evening, Jake. Please don’t ask me about the simulation.”_

_“Alright. I’ll ask about your paintings then. How are they coming along?”_

_“Alright. Well, maybe not completely. I wanted to do a portrait of my father to show him the next time he comes to the station, but…I can’t even look at it anymore.”_

_“That’s okay. It’s a change of plans. You’ll find something else to paint. If it’s something you like to do, you’ll find a way.”_

_“Maybe I will. How’s the writing going?”_

_“Not so good. I’ve got serious writer’s block. What do you think I should write about?”_

_“If I give you a writing prompt, you have to give me an idea of what to paint.”_

_“I guess that’s a fair trade. You first.”_

_“I’d like to read one of those Earth fantasy stories. Write about a kingdom of fairies and a nearby Human village. It could be an allegory for first contact between Humans and Vulcans.”_

_“That’s…oddly specific. But, I like it. How about you draw a picture of first contact between a Human and a fairy princess and it can be an illustration for my story.”_

_“Sounds like a plan. Do you have a book of Human fairytales that I could borrow. I could use the inspiration.”_

_“I know I had one as a kid, but I don’t know if we still have it. I’ll ask my Dad.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_“It’s no trouble.”_

_“It’s not just for the book. Thank you for making me feel better. Thank you for giving me something to think about. Thank you for…being here, I guess.”_

_“You’re welcome to all those things. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”_

_“I look forward to it. Goodnight, Jake.”_

_“Goodnight, Ziyal.”_

…

Months later, on his miserable space trip with Worf, Garak found himself looking at the book. It was an actual paper book, which was better for the illustrations, and Ziyal had given Garak one of the very first copies. It was actually the second, with the first being gifted to Captain Sisko.

The artwork was beautiful, a fascinating combination of Cardassian, Bajoran, and Human styles. The Human characters were done in watercolors, a style popular on Earth. The fairies were sketched in the style of Cardassian Realism, standing out against the bright, peculiar backgrounds of Bajoran Symbolism, all shapes and colors the invoked the idea of a thing without actually showing it.

The first page showed the Human village, symbolized by golden squares, with watercolor droplets in the shape of people wandering about. According to Julian, who had knowledge of Earth’s geography, the village was supposed to resemble something on the continent of Europe, forests and mountains with cool, temperate weather. But, the Human had a darker skin tone than what was most common in that region. He resembled the Siskos, whose ancestors came from a warmer continent called Africa. The deserts and rainforests across the continent were far more Cardassian than how Europe was described.

Instead of the Humans and Vulcans that Ziyal had originally suggested, young Sisko had the idea to make the story about Humans, Bajorans, and Cardassians, just like the artwork. It was obvious that most of the characters were based of people the young man knew. There was a Human whom the elves adored as a powerful wizard and one of the main characters was his young son. The village healer also played an important role. The son of one of the lords of the fairy court had done something to offend his people and was sent to live among the elves, disguised a simple tailor, and the healer, who’d come to help people in the elf city, became fond of him. This somehow led to the Human, strangely drawn in the style that the fairies were usually drawn in, to open a sort of path between the three peoples, as shown on the second page, showing the healer and the tailor holding hands. Garak found it quite touching.

The third page was a picture of a girl, the fairy princess, whose face was mostly featureless, as in Bajoran Symbolism, with a more detailed Cardassian-style body. She was kneeling by the throne of the fairy king, an intimidating presence, weeping over not being allowed out into the forest to visit the people of her mother, the elves. Garak wondered if Ziyal had added this element to the story, or if this was the author’s perception of her.

The fourth page was the highlight of the book. In the Bajoran Symbolic forest, the son of the Human wizard and the fairy princess shook hands, meeting for the first time. The princess was drawn purely Cardassian now, giving her clearer facial expressions, so she could appear to be in awe of the Human, as if he were the magical creature. 

The book went on for five more pages. In the fifth, the Human and the princess were forbidden from seeing each other, because their fathers hated each other. On page six, they met in secret. On the seventh, they were caught and the princess was locked away in a tower and the Human was beaten and thrown into a dungeon in the fairy king's castle. On page eight, the tailor and healer returned to the story, sympathetic to the princess’ plight. They raised an army of all the intelligent creatures of the forest and stormed the castle. The illustration was of the tailor slaying the fairy king with a sword.

On the ninth and final page, the tailor is knighted by the princess, now the fairy queen and the healer is made an ambassador. The three peoples are united and the forest becomes peaceful.

As cynical as Garak wanted to be about it, he found the book rather sweet, in a manner appropriate for children's literature. Jake and Ziyal found a way to express themselves, to write about their own lives through allegory, to share their hopes and fears with the public. This was how they saw the world, through a youthful, naive fantasy filter, but there was more to it than that.

The younger Sisko saw his father as someone worshipped by the Bajorans, and thus needing to spend more time with them than with his son. He knew he couldn’t live up to his father’s legacy and this upset him, but he was also determined to go his own way in life.

It seemed that the two youths admired the relationship between Garak and Julian, seeing them as a pair of heroes who fought side-by-side in battle. That was something to aspire to, in a way.

Ziyal saw her father as someone who kept her away from her Bajoran heritage and made her unhappy. After the incident inside Odo’s mind, she’d grown away from him and liked him less than before, more aware of his many flaws.

Garak wasn’t sure whether Jake and Ziyal’s romance began before, during, or after the creation of the book, but the amazement of the fairy princess was Ziyal depicting herself in love with the Human. Perhaps she courted him with this image, subtly allowing him to see what she thinks of him.

Jake and Ziyal were worried that their fathers would separate them. Even the younger Sisko, whose father was a fairly benevolent man, was concerned about the possibility. They were willing to carry on a forbidden romance, but if it was Dukat who caught them, Ziyal believed that he might hurt Jake. Garak wouldn’t put it past him. He’d believe that the son of the Emissary might “corrupt” his daughter. If he lost his temper and didn’t think through his actions, he just might lash out at young Sisko. The poor boy never did a thing to challenge him, but Dukat would see his mere presence as a challenge to his authority over his child.

Strangely, they seemed to believe that Garak and Julian would be their saviors if they went against Dukat. Young Sisko really should’ve chosen his father as the one to lead armies to save him. But, the book mentioned the armies rallying to save the fairy princess, not the Human. This part of the story was about Ziyal. She saw Garak as her knight-in-shining-armor, though, unlike most knights, he didn’t marry the princess at the end. She’d previously viewed her father as her savior, rescuing her from the prison of the Breen. After rejecting Dukat, she’d put Garak in his role.

The implication that Ziyal would gain power on Cardassia probably wasn’t a sign of dangerous ambition and was only a way of providing a happy ending. It was probably young Sisko’s doing. Garak found it rather funny.

Garak put the book away. Ziyal wasn’t the one who needed saving at the moment. She was back on Deep Space Nine, under the protection of the Sisko family. Jake had nothing to fear from his father and he supported their relationship. No, it was Julian, yet again, who needed Garak’s help. Two years prior, Julian had been kidnapped and Garak had to find and rescue him. Every time the man stepped off the station, or even into a cargo bay, he seemed to get into trouble. Garak knew that if he told Julian to stop leaving the station, he wouldn’t. Even if his work didn’t require it, he loved to attend conferences and to learn whatever he could about medicine. He couldn’t fault a doctor for wanting to be a better doctor. Even when his paranoia was consistently proven right, he still had to just let these things happen. Julian would never be happy otherwise.

Even in captivity, Garak knew that Julian could take care of himself. For all he knew, Julian was orchestrating prison riots to pass the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is Julian in Prison (part one of three). He has an arc too.


	6. Dead in Three Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian is a prisoner of the Dominion and he has to prove himself to his more aggressive cellmates. It doesn't help that Tain is one of them.
> 
> CW: Medical horror, flashbacks, attempted rape (followed by asskicking, but still), general prison shittiness.

Julian opened his eyes. He’d noticed that his comfortable hotel bed felt very hard and though he could've sworn he turned the lights off before falling asleep, they were blinding. Now that he could see, it was obvious that he wasn’t in his hotel room. He was lying on something that resembled an operating table. His left arm was attached to an IV that was draining blood from his veins. His right arm was attached to an IV that connected to an empty bag. Perhaps it’d contained a drug to keep him unconscious while all of this was happening.

Julian shuddered. He spent his entire life working in medical facilities, but he hated being in them as a patient. The bright lights, the needles, the cold behavior of doctors who didn’t seem to notice when he was upset…He knew perfectly well why it was hard to manage at the best of times. It was worse not knowing where he was, what was happening, why it was happening, and if it was dangerous. He was confused, trapped, and vulnerable. He knew he’d most likely been kidnapped, but he had no idea what his kidnappers intended to do with him. They were draining his blood. Would they drain all of it and kill him?

Even though the needles of IVs were meant to be hard to feel, Julian’s wrists burned. If he tried to remove an IV from either hand, he tugged on the other in a way that burned. He had to keep his arms at his sides. It all felt very familiar. He remembered watched red leaving his body, going into some kind of machine, and circling back through the other side…

…

Adigeon Prime, 2348:

_The thing they put on his head began to feel warm, like an electric heating pad. It soon became hot enough to burn. He screamed. The nurse silenced him._

_“Just fifteen more minutes, Julian. Then, you’ll be done for today.”_

_“My head hurts.”_

_“It will hurt for a while, but you’ll start to feel better soon._

_The doctor, whose face was hidden behind a screen, interrupted._

_“Keep him still. His fidgeting is messing with the readings. I can’t tell if he’s accepting the modifications or not.”_

_“Can we sedate him?”_

_“I need him conscious to monitor brain activity. Use the paralyzer.”_

_The paralyzer could make it hard to breathe, so he had to have a tube breathe for him. There was another machine attached to it that made his lungs move. The tube had to go through his nose and it hurt. But, he couldn't fight it or they'd have to put a tube through his throat instead and that hurt even worse._

_He panicked at being unable to move no matter what he did. He couldn’t even scream. He was only barely getting enough air. Everything went black for a moment. When he woke up, the doctor was standing over him._

_“You fainted again.”_

_“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”_

_“We can’t keep doing this, Julian. I can’t do my job if you don’t work with me.”_

_“I’m trying!”_

_“Well, you’re going to need to try a little harder, or else we’ll never get this done. Now, you can go back to your room. We’ll just have to try again tomorrow.”_

…

The medical equipment used for genetic enhancements was the same equipment used during the Eugenics Wars. Since the enhancements were illegal, the science behind them, at least in regions near Federation space, hadn’t been updated in centuries. The newest technology used was mid-21st century from the era of the Third World War. The old technology, along with a few more modern devices, such as faster computers, was safe and functional, but it was unpleasant.

This lab reminded him more of a 21st century lab, a horrifying relic of a barbaric past. Julian wasn’t much of a historian, but he’d seen the old photographs of the eugenics labs from 2026, the ones World War Three was fought over. That was why he wasn’t much of a historian. After the nightmares he’d had after studying the three World Wars in school, he never wanted to even hear the word “history” ever again.

Then, a Vorta strolled in. Dominion technology was normally ahead of that of the Alpha Quadrant. What was all this about?

“I assume you’re uncomfortable. The screaming is getting a little irritating.”

Julian wasn’t aware that he’d been screaming.

“As a doctor, I’m sure you’ve noticed that our medical facilities appear slightly primitive. The Founders have different medical needs from Solids and Dominion citizens have separate facilities for medical needs. These facilities are used only for prisoners.”

“Prisoners?”

“I’d assumed you’d figured that out by now. Welcome to Internment Camp 371. You’re here because it serves the interests of the Dominion. There is no release. There is no escape, except in death. Is that clear?”

“How does my being here serve your interests?”

“The Founders have chosen you to be the form one of them shall take. It’s a great honor to have them use your likeness. Because of that honor, you will not be killed.”

“And you took blood that the Changeling could use to fake its way through a blood test.”

“That is correct. Now, after the blood loss, I assume you must be feeling somewhat fatigued. I’ll have you escorted to the barracks.”

Right on cue, two Jem’Hadar appeared. They freed Julian from the table and dragged him down a hallway. Julian was surprised to find that the news that he’d been replaced by a Changeling and was to remain a prisoner for the rest of his life didn’t upset him. He didn’t believe he’d be there for very long, or even that the Changeling would be able to pass as him for very long. Elim would notice and when Elim noticed, he’d find Julian and save him. All he had to do was wait until then.

The second he got a chance to look around the room he’d be sleeping in, he realized that it wouldn’t really be that simple. There were seven other prisoners in the room, one Klingon, two Romulans, and four Cardassians. Two of the Cardassians looked quite familiar. One of them, a man around Elim’s age who seemed abnormally thin for a Cardassian, Julian knew he’d seen before, but he couldn’t remember his name. The man he was talking to when Julian came in was Enabran Tain.

The panic from before all came flooding back. Elim would rescue him, but while he waited, Tain would be there. It was that kidnapping all over again. Tain had him again.

“No…Why didn’t they kill you?”

“A very good question. I wish I knew myself. It’s been a long time, Doctor.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“How’s Elim doing? I can tell he’s marked you again. I really should take you back, just as a surprise for when he comes chasing after you, but, unfortunately, by health has taken a turn for the worse. At least I now have access to a good doctor.”

The next thing Julian knew, he was staring at the ceiling and the back of his head stung like it’d just hit something hard. He heard laughter from Tain and a few of the others. The Other Familiar Cardassian crossed the room and helped him up.

“You’ve been in this room for less than two minutes and you’ve already fainted.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Of course you didn’t. Don’t apologize. So, you’re Garak’s Human. I saw you once a couple years back. I nearly lost my face for you.”

The man’s face was heavily scarred on one side. The man had been attacked with acid, actually taking a hit meant for Julian.

“I’m sorry about that too.”

“I don’t care. It was my stupid mistake.”

“I think we’ve both made our share of stupid mistakes.”

“Yeah. I forgot your name.”

“Doctor Julian Bashir. Julian’s fine. You are a friend of Elim’s after all. I’ve forgotten your name as well.”

“Pythas Lok. If we’re doing first names, you can call me Pythas. I shouldn’t let you, but you’re a Human and I understand your rules are different. Besides, I doubt you’ll have much time to call me that. You’d be lucky to last a week in this place.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Since I had the bright idea to sell Tain to the Dominion two years ago. I’m not talking about the prison in general. I’m talking about a Human who’s already fainted and made an enemy immediately after arriving. You’re either going to starve or get yourself killed, probably in the next three days.”

“I appreciate your confidence.”

“I’m just trying to be realistic. You’re young, you’re soft, you’re a Human, meaning you weren’t trained to be strong, and you’re easy to scare. Odds are some bored Klingons will tear you apart for their own amusement.”

The one Klingon in the room stood up. He looked quite familiar too. He’d lost an eye at some point, but Julian could recognize him as General Martok. He’d heard that he’d been replaced by a Changeling as well.

“Are you implying that my people are so dishonorable as to kill this young man for mere amusement? Unless they challenge him to battle, they’d never do that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I know these men. I’ve lived beside them for nearly two years. I’ve seen them fight the Jem’Hadar day after day. I’ve never once seen them attack an innocent man unprovoked. Battle keeps their interests and this Human would offer no challenge.”

If Julian had already made an enemy, it seemed he’d also gained an ally. He never would’ve expected a Klingon to have anything but contempt for someone who was clearly weak. Klingon honor made little sense to Julian. Worf’s honor had more in common with old Earth chivalry, but the other Klingons seemed to define honor as victory. A stronger opponent would equal a greater victory, but it didn’t seem like fighting someone weaker and easily destroying them was frowned upon. Perhaps it varied from Klingon to Klingon and Julian was lucky enough to have run into a more genuinely honorable one.

Julian was tired, still weak from blood loss, so he soon fell asleep. It was apparently night, anyway. He had no way of knowing. He didn’t sleep well. He felt like Tain was watching him and dreamed of both him and Adigeon Prime, bad memories blurring together. Elim wasn’t there to wake him. There was no one there to save him this time. When he woke up, it was still night. The lights in the barrack had been turned off and everyone appeared to be asleep. It was cramped. There were four beds for eight prisoners. In the back corner, Pythas guarded Tain while he slept. He had no loyalty to him, so Julian had no idea why. Across from them, Martok was paired with one of the two other Cardassians. The Romulans were together.

Julian realized that there was another Cardassian lying next to him, trapping him on the bed. He’d been so used to sleeping with Elim like this, with him shielding Julian this way, that his mind hadn’t registered the presence of this stranger. He began to feel very uncomfortable, worse than before. The man was awake and he stared at Julian with leering eyes that reminded him of those of Ortek Devar. There was no way to pull away from him. He had no idea how to react.

“Ka vinnu tasvisf’I!”

He thought that speaking Kardasi would make the stranger accept his words. He spoke the tongue of his people, which inferiors would be assumed to be incapable of. He wasn’t just some Human. He was familiar with the Cardassian people.

_“Don’t stare at me!”_

“Ka tastef’I, wenatsi.”

_“Don’t talk, little inferior.”_

“Chek ka jat’o?”

_“What do you want?”_

“Nu’so kor peret.”

_“You should know that.”_

Cool fingers brushed over Julian’s neck, a contrast to the warm breath in his ear.

“Ka nu tasp’vel!”

_“Don’t touch me!”_

“Nu ka tastef tef’a.”

_“I said, ‘don’t talk’”_

Julian froze, letting the stranger sniff him, to taste Elim’s mark with his so’c.

“Cufka Kardasi cerd’a.”

_“You let a Cardassian inside you before.”_

“Kor tassetreb’I!”

_“That’s none of your concern!”_

“SeprUt cufka jat’I’o?”

_“Do you want my prUt inside you?”_

“Yaq! Tasces hif’Elim cerda’er.”

_“No! No one but Elim is allowed to.”_

“MUr tasvess…”

_“Too bad…”_

Abandoning dignity for the sake of self-preservation, Julian screamed and struggled. Realizing that there were no Federation citizens around to suspect him, he used all of his strength to push the Cardassian off the bed and moved quickly to step over him. He had to leave the room. He had to escape. He made it into the hallway before being cornered. There were two of them now. The first had brought the other stranger along. Julian knew he wouldn’t be able to fight both at once, but he had to try.

Julian fought well, surprising himself. The first Cardassian to attempt to assault him was now unconscious. Julian had managed to hit his head against the wall. But, the second had grabbed him and pinned him to the opposite wall. He’d been thrown back hard enough to be stunned. His head was forced back against the wall and he felt sharp teeth break his skin. He closed his eyes, focusing on controlling his vitals, willing himself to lose consciousness.

Then, Julian heard a roar, a battle cry and the Cardassian was pulled off of him and thrown to the ground. Martok had apparently woken up and noticed that the Cardassian he’d slept next to was gone and went to investigate. Julian and Martok fought the Cardassians together until the Jem’Hadar finally became aware that something was wrong.

“If you’re going to fight, do so in the barracks. There will be no battles in the hallway.”

The Jem’Hadar loved violence enough to not punish it. At least, not severely.

“Who started this brawl?”

“The Cardassians.” Martok answered.

“One of them attempted to assault me and I was merely trying to defend myself. His friend came to help him and my friend came to help me. I’m very sorry.”

“Any more trouble from either of you and you’re dead. The Cardassian who started the fight will be put in isolation.”

Julian and Martok hauled that Cardassian off the ground and flung his unconscious body forward. The Jem’Hadar didn’t seem at all surprised.

“Emok again? If he fought us instead of the other prisoners, we’d have had reason to kill him by now. Now, return to your barracks immediately.”

Julian and Martok return to the barrack, shoving the remaining Cardassian in front of them. Everyone else had been woken up by the commotion. Pythas stepped forward. This was one of the Obsidian Order agents he’d once been in charge of.

“You’re a fool, Rogesh. I’m guessed Emok either got himself killed or isolated.”

Rogesh swayed on his feet, but he was becoming more aware of his surroundings.

“Isolated, sir.”

“They really should just kill the both of you. You’ve been nothing but trouble.”

The two were no different from Ortek. They were stupid, sadistic thugs.

“Now, I suggest you leave that Human alone from now one. We’re trying to bring Garak here for back-up and if he finds out you were trying to fuck his mate…”

“Oh Virtues…The Human mentioned an Elim, but I had no idea it was _that_ Elim!”

“I look forward to your demise.”

Rogesh returned to his bunk, staring off into the distance in horror. He’d signed his death warrant. As much as Julian would prefer if Elim didn’t kill him, since he was no longer a threat, he had to admit that he was enjoying this a little. After the fight, seeing his opponent squirm a little was a clear sign that he would’ve try again. Once Emok found out, he wouldn’t either. Neither one of the would pose a threat to him ever again. He’d saved himself, with some help from Martok, but Elim had saved him from afar without knowing it.

As for Martok, he joined Julian on his bunk instead of returning to Rogesh.

“Just in case anyone else tries anything. You’re a capable warrior and it was an honor to fight beside you. I hope to get the chance to do so again.”

“I’d rather not be attacked again, but thank you.”

Julian knew he was safe for that moment. Tain was too weak to get out of bed, the Romulans had yet to acknowledge his existence, Pythas was never a threat, Rogesh and Emok wouldn’t dare to threaten him again, and Martok was his ally. He was still in hell, but he’d make the most of it until Elim came for him. It wouldn’t be like last time. He wasn’t alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to a long and complicated story, I haven't been able to read A Stitch in Time, so Pythas' characterization may be completely off.


	7. Relics of Childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak notices something off about Julian and everything gets worse from there. Teenage Mursa has a phaser.
> 
> CW: Flashbacks to Garak's Childhood=Child Abuse, Panic Attacks

Not Long Ago:

“Jem’Hadar weapons, when not lethal, can cause such severe plasma burns that it can lead to serious nerve damage. People have had to have limbs amputated because they lost feeling in them, couldn’t move them, and blood flow was being cut off. These treatments might make it possible to heal that nerve damage instead of amputating the limb. I have to go!”

“I know. But, I can’t help but worry over the fact every time you leave this station, you never seem to come back on time and in one piece.”

“Kelas is coming with me. We’ll stick together and nothing will happen to either one of us.”

“Perhaps I should accompany you.”

“It’s by invitation only, Elim. Look, I understand why you’re worried, but I’m going to be alright. No matter what happens, even if something goes wrong, you’ll be able to handle it. I trust you with my life and I know you’ll save it if it comes down to it. You’ve done it before. Tasut’treb’I, Elimlin. Nu ka nu h’ssti’er’U peret’I. Nu ka zIra’net’I.”

_“Don’t worry, my dear Elim. I know that you will always protect me. I love you very much.”_

…

Garak could feel that last kiss like a tactile ghost. The words spoken before it played over and over in his mind. It’d been weeks. He hoped that Julian didn’t believe he’d given up on him, or that he’d failed to protect him, betraying that trust.

“JUli’an…Nu JUli’anik…Nu vinka juq’I.”

_“Julian…My Julian…I’m coming for you.”_

“Your mumbling to yourself is quite distracting.”

Worf. If he ever said anything, it wasn’t helpful.

“Haven’t you carried on conversations while flying before?”

“That’s different.”

“If I was someone you liked, you wouldn’t care.”

Worf ignored Garak, which he knew was probably for the better. He decided to ignore Worf as well and just keep talking.

“Do you know how I knew that that Changeling wasn’t Julian? If we weren’t as…close as we are, there was no way I could’ve known. The clone was absolutely perfect. I have to give the Founders credit for that. The one detail they missed was one they couldn’t have possibly known about.”

…

Around Thirty Days Ago:

“Elim!”

“Julian! Julian, my dear, how was the conference? Did you learn anything interesting?”

“Oh, yes! It was very enlightening.”

“You must tell me all about it. One never knows when he might need to treat a severe phaser burn these days.”

Julian babbled on, recalling every detail of the conference. He had opinions on all of it and speaking of it brought him to life. Garak loved seeing him like this, passionate and energetic, telling stories with his whole body. It would be dangerous for a Cardassian to speak this way, indiscreet and concealing nothing, but even Julian’s fellow Humans seemed to find this behavior distasteful. They valued honesty as long as they liked the truth and it was delivered to them in the right way, with the right words, the right tone, the right volume, and the right gestures. The art of Cardassian conversation was one of subtlety, one that took years to master, but Humans expected proper conversational etiquette from people with no training in these things, even children. They didn’t learn in schools how to avoid revealing the truth in their eyes when they lied, or how to shift posture in an argument so the opponent knew whether or not they intended to present a real threat. Humans were so strange. They lacked the telepathic skills of Betazoids, but they clearly had to have some form of telepathy to know each other so well without any training or practice.

Once they reached their quarters, Garak began his usual rituals for when Julian returned from away missions and conferences. He watched while Julian changed his clothes, still talking and not caring that Garak was watching, as long as he didn’t linger for too long or try to touch him without warning. He looked for cuts and bruises, signs of implants that could’ve been planted on Julian without his knowledge, puncture wounds from darts or injections, hidden monitoring devices, and any other little sign that he could’ve been harmed or was at risk of being harmed. Today, he found nothing.

Having determined that Julian hadn’t been harmed that way, Garak breathed over his so’c. If Julian had been assaulted, Garak wouldn’t need to do that to know. Julian would definitely tell him. But, the true taste of a person could detect more than pheromonal marks. There were subtle signs that could alert Garak to Julian’s health, if he was under an abnormal amount of stress, if he was anxious about anything. Getting so caught up in his talking or his work, Julian could neglect himself until he collapsed. He didn’t mean to, but he’d lose track of his own body sometimes, so Garak made sure to check in on him, see that he was resting enough, that nothing in their environment was irritating him, that he was eating and drinking regularly, and other sorts of things like that.

What Garak found was confusing. He picked up mild amounts of stress, but nothing else. Garak couldn’t taste any pheromones. That was impossible. A Cardassian’s mate, if marked, could gain the mark of someone else, but it would take months for any mark to be completely erased. Garak and Julian had mated less than three days before Julian left and there wasn’t enough time for the mark to completely vanish. This was impossible.

Garak convinced Julian to get some rest and left him alone. Normally, this would cause some kind of reaction. Even in his sleep, Julian’s true taste would change, implying an increase in anxiety, if Garak left the bed while he was sleeping. He sensed the lost of physical contact. This time, there was no change at all.

Garak went to meet with Kelas. He’d been with Julian at the conference and should’ve been aware of any peculiar changes. He was visiting Narin and Mursa, who was starting to stay up later than before, now that she was growing up. Mursa was fourteen now, beginning the process of transitioning from child to adult. She had a way of being young for her age, so her behavior wasn’t exactly adolescent, but she came across as an older child than she did before. She came running up to Garak, flailing her hands about in a way very similar to what Julian often did, though the motions didn’t match up with her words in quite the same way.

“Mr. Garak! Nerys and Ziyal have been teaching me how to use a phaser now that Father says I’m old enough. We’ve been practicing in the holosuite every other day and I’m getting really good! Let me show you!”

Narin stopped her.

“Mursa, we have a rule about this. Unless there’s an emergency, you practice in the holosuite and don’t use your phaser anywhere else.”

“I forgot. Sorry…”

“It’s alright, Mursa. Just like using a phaser, it can be hard to remember new rules at first. Now, I believe Mr. Garak has something he wants to tell Kelas and me.”

“Okay. Can I listen?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Garak said, guessing that there was some chance that she might spy. He’d risk it. The girl wasn’t a threat to anyone and children should learn how to eavesdrop without getting caught. That’s what he’d been taught. Spying was good, especially if you gained information to help the state, but allowing yourself to get caught was a sign that you weren’t disciplined enough to know how to avoid attracting attention to yourself.

“Thank you for asking first, Mursa.” Narin said as the child returned to her room.

Kelas had been listening quietly to the conversation, having nothing to add. When Mursa had fully left the room, he spoke:

“Considering that you were seeking out me in particular so shortly after we returned from the conference, I’m guessing you’re concerned about something involving Julian.”

“You’re quite perceptive. How you noticed anything odd about him?”

“Perhaps you should stop being coy and dancing around the subject for once and just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Fine. For Julian’s sake, I’ll cooperate. Every since returning from the conference, he has little true taste to him. My mark is gone. He doesn’t have any mark at all. That’s not possible.”

“Well, if it’s not possible for Julian to be unmarked, that perhaps it isn’t really Julian on this station.”

“A Changeling? They’re everywhere these days, but why would the Founders want to replace Julian of all people? He’s a senior officer on this station, but he’s not a commander, he has no political or military power. What do they have to gain by replacing him?”

“We should first figure out if that’s what’s happened.”

“So we’ll need a blood sample.”

“The Klingon General Martok was replaced by a Changeling and the Changeling managed to pass a blood test. They have a way of getting around that.”

“What other ways are there to expose a Changeling? Do we just wait for him to turn to liquid?”

“A Changeling in Julian’s place would be too smart to get caught like that. He’ll have a hiding place to revert to his liquid form and he’ll know how to access it when he needs it.”

Narin spoke up. Garak hadn’t expected him to be of any help here, though he was glad that he was.

“I think I know what we can do. I don’t have a profession on this station, so I’ve spent my time doing research. A phaser on heavy stun can knock out a Changeling and an unconscious Changeling can’t maintain a solid form. That will prove it.”

It was a good plan, but Garak found himself automatically cringing away from it. There was some small chance they could be about to shoot the real Julian. Even if they weren’t, seeing someone who looked and sounded and acted exactly like his Julian and shooting them, even non-fatally, felt like something he just couldn’t do. Narin seemed to notice his reaction and added onto the plan.

“Someone other than you has to do it. Rakret H’ssti’er will get in the way. Even if this is only a duplicate of Julian, you recognize him and will still instinctively respond to him as if he were real. I won’t force you to do it. In fact, you probably shouldn’t even be in the room. If you were, you’d feel a compulsion to stop it.”

“I can resist.”

“You shouldn’t have to. If you train yourself to ignore Rakret H’ssti’er, the instinct will weaken. You might not be able to go into that state when you need to.”

Everyone was reluctant to perform this necessary test. Drawing blood was one thing, but shooting someone was quite another. It was a reliable test, but Garak doubted that the Federation would adopt it.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Mursa walked in not, not from her room, but from the front door carrying a phaser in one hand and a jar of goo in the other.

“He’s a Changeling. I accidentally heard everything you said and I know you didn’t want to have to shoot somebody who looked like Julian, so I decided it was an emergency and I took care of it. I snuck out and got Julian to let me in because the Changeling knew that the real Julian wouldn’t turn away a little girl and probably didn’t think I was a threat anyway.”

This was at first met with stunned silence.

“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

Garak found words before Narin did.

“That was very well done, Mursa. A Cardassian child would’ve been taught to do exactly that. I’m especially impressed that you managed to leave the room without any of us noticing. You’d make a good spy!”

Narin laughed.

“Garak, don’t encourage her! I don’t usually reward devious behavior.”

“You have to admit that said devious behavior was very convenient for us.”

Now everyone was laughing. Well, the adults were. Mursa tilted her head in confusion.

“So…when the Changeling wakes up from being stunned, it’ll probably be able to shape-shift out of this jar. Would do we do now?”

Narin took a deep breath. Despite the amusing circumstances, this was still a serious matter. A senior officer of the station had been either abducted or killed by the Dominion.

“Let’s bring it to Constable Odo. He’ll probably know what to do with it.”

Narin and Mursa left for Odo’s office. Narin had Mursa leave her phaser behind, but let her carry the jar. In a sense, it was her kill, her prey, though she’d captured it alive.

Abducted or killed. Garak’s reaction was delayed, but now it hit him. Was his Julian dead? Was he murdered, far from home, believing that no one would notice he was gone, that no one would think to mourn him because of the fake? Did he even know about the Changeling? Did he even know it was the Dominion that killed him? Did they slaughter him in his sleep?

There was a chance that he might be alive. If the Changeling could fake a blood test, it’d probably need his blood to do it, and it might need to refresh its supply. It would have to be live blood, not the blood of a corpse. As long as the Changeling was active, the Dominion wouldn’t kill him.

But the Changeling wasn’t active. Garak had noticed the fake and it’d been caught. When the Dominion learned of this, they’d have no reason to keep Julian alive. What if they already knew somehow? He’d just gotten his mate killed!

Garak did not remember Narin’s quarters being so small. It was shrinking around him. His mind was putting him back into the closet, punishment for his deadly neglect. He fled the room, but the hallway was even smaller. There was no escaping justice. He had to be punished. He had to stop resisting.

…

_2332:_

_“Uncle Enabran!”_

_“I didn’t give you permission to use my first name.”_

_“Tain, please! What did I do wrong?”_

_“You let yourself get caught, atsi.”_

_Atsi. Inferior. Unworthy of a name._

_“But I didn’t get caught! You didn’t know I was there until I told you!”_

_“But you did tell me. You let yourself get caught, happily confessing like a fool.”_

_“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!”_

_“I’m sure you won’t. As soon as you’ve learned your lesson, anyway.”_

_“But I have learned my lesson!”_

_“Feeling guilty isn’t learning. It’s just weakness!”_

_Elim tried not tremble as Uncle Tain dragged him into his study. He knew what was going to happen._

_“I’m sorry! I’ll learn!”_

_“Not until you have the proper attitude. Now, you’ll stay here for two hours and if you haven’t regained your disciplined mind by then, we’ll have to try again in another two. If I hear you wailing before then, I will silence you. Do I make myself clear?”_

_“Yes, sir…”_

_Elim was shoved into the closet with a force that made him lose his balance, his fall only broken by his head hitting the wall in front of him. The door slammed and the darkness began to surround him._

…

Garak was on the floor in the hallway. He’d run straight into a wall in a blind panic. Someone was with him, saying calming things. Julian? No, that wasn’t his voice, it was much older.

“Kelas?”

“Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

“You have no reason to. You’re worried about Julian. We’re all worried about him. But, this is harder for you than it is for anyone else. I understand. I’ve never been that close to anyone before, but I understand. I believe he’s alive. We’ll find him alive. But, you’ll need to calm yourself first. Get some sleep. In the morning, we’ll begin our search. Until then, the good Constable will be on the case. I’ll escort you to your quarters and I will not leave until I see that you’re asleep. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir…”

“Don’t address me like you would your father. I’m not _that_ old. I’m not that old and I’m not that cruel. I’m not trying to punish you, Elim. It’s not in my power and I wouldn’t if it was. Being worried is not a crime in need of punishment. This isn’t about discipline. I’m just a doctor and a friend who wants you to be well.”

“You’re starting to remind me of Julian.”

“For your sanity’s sake, somebody has to, I suppose. Now, let’s get you to bed.”

Garak didn’t protest. He was exhausted. The panic attack took all the energy out of him. But, he couldn’t sleep. After his experience with Rakret H’ssti’er, Garak never fell asleep until he knew that Julian was safe. When Julian was on away missions, he usually became dependent on a sedative. Now that he knew that Julian definitely wasn’t safe, he doubted that that would work unless he took enough to risk an overdose. Even if the sedative worked, it wouldn’t last. He’d wake up in the middle of the night. He needed something to remind himself of Julian’s presence. The sheets smelled like him, but it wasn’t enough.

The only thing in their quarters that carried enough of Julian’s scent that it truly felt like he was there was Kukalaka. Julian had been clinging to that bear his entire life and it was like a piece of him was permanently attached to it. Garak fell asleep holding onto that one remaining piece of Julian, the only piece he could currently touch. He hoped that Julian wouldn’t mind. He even spoke to it, like he occasionally heard Julian do late at night when he thought no one could hear.

“He really should’ve taken you with him. He’s probably afraid right now and you’d be a comfort to him. He expected to be back soon enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about being separated from you for too long. Now, he just might miss you even more than he misses me. I think I just might bring you with me when I search for him. We’ll both go looking for him tomorrow.”

…

Sure enough, Garak had Kukalaka tucked away in his bag. Worf thankfully didn’t question it. In fact, he understood enough to say the only useful thing he’d said so far:

“Prisoners set for execution, when allowed to choose their last meal, deserts, or things their mothers made for them. When people have reason to fear for their lives, they return to relics of childhood. To hold onto that toy creature for so long, Doctor Bashir must have a lot to be afraid and he’s strong enough to rarely show it. I can respect that.” 


	8. No One Survives Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian has made friends in prison, but a combination of bad memories and an angry Vorta are giving him a very hard time.
> 
> CW: Romulans kinda do rape and eugenics (this is only talked about), Adigeon Prime flashbacks, implied prelude to torture.

The first few days weren’t all that bad. After a single incident, Julian began to get along with most of his fellow prisoners. Martok introduced him to the other Klingons and he started patching them up after their fights with the Jem’Hadar. His medical supplies were limited to a small first aid kit that one of the Romulans had obtained, telling Julian not to ask how. There was only so much he could do, but if an injured Klingon wanted to live, Julian could usually make that happen. Surprisingly, most of them didn’t refuse medical care. They weren’t afraid to die, but they wanted to take their enemies with them. If they died, it would be in battle against the Jem’Hadar, not while fighting them for the amusement of the local Vorta.

The Cardassians also got along well with Julian, despite what’d happened before. He’d earned the respect of Pythas Lok and that spread throughout the Obsidian Order prisoners. There weren’t many of them. The only one not from his barrack whose name he learned was Nal Dejar, a close friend of Pythas. She’d seen him before at the same time Pythas first did, and she’d visited Deep Space Nine before that. She wasn’t fond of Humans and didn’t want to speak to him, but she was at least civil with him when he spoke Kardasi. 

“Garak raTeraji te’ala vess’a. Si Chi-Kardasi ga’I. Hif’si atsi ga’I. Si hUtasik.”

“Garak taught the Human well. He’s almost Kardasi. But, he’s an inferior. He doesn’t have scales.”

As for Rogesh and Emok, they were bending over backwards to be nice to him. They shared their rations, let him walk in front of them when they left the barracks, and averted their eyes while speaking to him, as a Cardassian soldier was expected to do before a superior. They did it because they thought Elim might overlook their previous actions towards his mate if they did enough nice things for him. Julian had already planned on telling Elim that they weren’t worth killing, but they didn’t believe him when he said that. With all the lying Cardassians did, they rarely believed anything anyone told them.

Julian and Tain simply ignored each other. Tain was dying of a heart condition and Julian would occasionally help him manage his symptoms, but they'd say nothing to one another. Tain had lost a lot of strength working on a project to convert an old life support system into a machine that could send a message, hoping to contact Elim on the station. Pythas had taken over the physical work and Julian left them to it.

Julian was even beginning to get along with the Romulans. It helped that one of them wasn’t entirely Romulan. She introduced herself as T’Pella, a Vulcan name. Her father was Vulcan and her mother was Romulan. During some military conflict with the Federation, her father was taken prisoner by the Tal Shiar and her mother was left in charge of his interrogation. T’Pella said she was never told exactly what happened, only that stories like hers were common. Romulans had some sort of idea about assimilation through breeding and some of them deliberately had mixed-species children to symbolically absorb another culture into theirs. They raised the children as Romulans.

T’Pella didn’t remember much about her father. Her mother was sometimes looked down upon for having a daughter with a Vulcan name, but it was Romulan tradition that the father named the child, even if the father wasn’t Romulan. Children with Romulan mothers and off-world fathers often had names from their fathers’ home planets. Those with Romulan fathers had Romulan names.

“You’re Starfleet, so I doubt you’ll mind me telling you that I’ve often wished that I was fully Vulcan. Everyone else, when speaking of their Romulan ancestry speaks of “the blood of their fathers”, and that’s not my blood. By Romulan tradition, I should be considered Vulcan, but my mother was so important in the Tal Shiar that if she wanted to say I was Romulan, no one dared to contradict her. I don’t like Starfleet and I don’t like the Federation, but that’s mostly because of the Humans. Vulcans are disciplined like Romulans are and have traveled through space for far longer than Humans have. I have no idea how they became in charge of everything.”

“We’re not in charge of everything. There are representatives from every planet in the Federation at the council.”

“That’s a lot of planets that no one ever hears about, approximately fifty percent of which are Human colonies.”

“No race is given more importance than any other. We happen to have a high population of Humans, but they’re no more important than Vulcans, Andorians, or any of the others.”

“Stop quoting dogma and actually listen. The official language of the Federation is an Earth language, a Human language. How many languages other than Standard do you speak?”

“Two, actually. Part of my family came from a region that traditionally speaks a language called Arabic and I was taught it for tradition’s sake.”

“Another Human language.”

“I’m also fluent in Kardasi, which is not only not a language of Earth, but not even a language of the Federation or one of its allies. The Academy has no official courses on the language and I learned it from a native speaker.”

“And how often do Humans ever do that?”

“Not very often. Everyone in the Federation speaks Standard and we normally only study the languages of our allies. I know plenty of people who can speak at least a bit of Klingon and Bajoran is becoming increasingly popular.”

“But you’d never speak to an enemy in their own tongue.”

“If you’d prefer to speak to me in Romulan, I’d love to learn it. I have some knowledge of Vulcan and they share a common origin, so it most likely won’t be difficult.”

“You’re strange. You play at being the perfect Starfleet officer, you’re painfully Federation, but you’re somehow the least Federation Human I’ve ever met.”

“Do you mean that as a compliment or a mere statement of fact?”

“It depends on what you do with the information.”

Julian decided that he’d found a way to pass the time. He learned Romulan from T’Pella and Klingon from Martok. As he’d done with Elim and Cardassia, he asked about their history and culture, what everyday life was like outside of the military. He had nothing better to do than learn. He wasn’t as good with languages as he was with scientific facts, so it took him a while. It’d taken months to learn Kardasi and in his first few weeks in prison, he’d only managed to learn the very basics.

The other Romulan, whose name was Errok Janok, didn’t like T’Pella, and therefore, didn’t like Julian. When Julian thought to ask T’Pella about their rivalry, she revealed that it was actually for a very good reason.

“I killed his brother.”

She said it casually, dismissively, as if killing someone’s brother was a normal thing to have done.

“Why?”

“I had to. When I was around twelve, he was in my class in school. I was falling behind, so I had to prove myself. That’s how it works on Romulus. If you’re born weak, you die. If you don't pass the exams to get into school, you die. There’s no room for the weak and stupid. Then, if you ever fall behind in school, someone in your class gets picked and you have to fight. Either they kill you, eliminating someone unworthy of Romulus, or you kill them and prove that you’re not actually weak. I fell behind a lot.”

It was barbaric, something that would never happen in the Federation, but Julian felt a sense of familiarity. He knew what it was like to have to prove your worth under pressure and face consequences when you failed to.

“So, Sem Janok was picked to fight me when I was falling behind and if I didn’t kill him, I would’ve died. I had nothing against him. We weren’t friends, but there was nothing wrong with him. I just did what I had to do to survive.”

The other Janok brother, who was listening, scowled.

“My brother was always one of the best in all of his classes. You were the one who deserved to die!”

“I proved my worth! Maybe I’m not strong by nature, but I worked. I worked my entire life to be strong enough to be worthy of Romulus! How much work did you do? You and your brothers were naturals. You never had to try.”

“You have no idea what my father went through to have strong sons like Sem and I! He’d married a weak woman who’d given him weak children time and time again. Most of my older half-brothers died as infants. The strongest one lived to the age of three. None of them made it into school. But, my father loved that woman. He knew she was weak, but he loved her. But, he also loved Romulus and he chose Her. He found a stronger woman, one who could produce strong sons for the empire. To prove his devotion to her, and to Romulus, he killed his first wife and their last child, the one who lived to be three. With his second wife, my mother, he had two strong sons. He knew he’d have them. He studied the genetic lines of eligible women and found one whose family never produced a weak child. He worked hard and gave everything for Romulus. Who was your father, T’Pella?”

Julian was stunned by the argument. On Romulus, a man saw his children as failures, so he killed them and changed the genetics that were shaping them to produce better ones. That last child had been deemed strong enough to live at birth, but because his older siblings all failed, he was declared a failure before he’d been given any chance to prove he wasn’t and was replaced with a superior model.

Julian had never seen a Romulan parent with their child before. He assumed that they were stricter than Human parents, but their children most likely loved and trusted them out of instincts that all children have. They all know that they need to be cared for. He could imagine this father speaking gently to his son, calmly leading the lamb to the slaughter. The boy would slowly begin to realize what was about to happen and he’d start to cry. The father would scold him, order him to be quiet before silencing him permanently and never looking back.

Just like his own father, in a way.

…

_Adigeon Prime, 2348:_

_Jules had noticed that his father was in a better mood than normal. He didn’t yell as much as he usually did. He even smiled sometimes. At first he thought he was just happy about their vacation. But, now they were in a building where there were lots of doctors. His father held his hand while he talked to one of them. Jules began to realize from the few words that he understood that his parents intended to leave him there. He heard his mother crying._

_Jules tried to pull away from his father, but the strong adult could hold his wrist so hard that it hurt. The only reason he’d even been holding his hand was to keep him from running away. Jules screamed. He struggled. He kicked at his father’s ankles. He tried to just fall to the floor, but his father wouldn’t let go._

_“Jules! You’re making a scene. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”_

_Jules was too scared to have words. He wanted to beg his parents not to leave him with these strangers. He wasn’t sick. He didn’t need to be in a hospital. He screamed as loud as he could. His father reached for his other had and grabbed Kukalaka. He always did that when he wanted to win a fight._

_“Stop this right now or Kukalaka’s leaving with us and he won’t be there when you get home.”_

_Jules froze. He couldn’t let Kukalaka die. He cried quietly while his father signed some papers and then the doctor led him away to be killed. He knew they’d kill him somehow. Even if his heart kept beating and his lungs kept breathing, he’d be dead._

_“I’m sorry, Dad…”_

…

He couldn’t tell anyone. Because of what his parents had done, Julian could never tell anyone about it. He couldn’t tell anyone why he never talked about his family. He couldn’t tell the O’Briens why he never spent vacations visiting his parents on Earth. 

He’d told Elim a little bit, because when Tain had found out, Julian had to tell him. He wasn’t very clear about it, but he later explained that he’d been taken to the research hospital on Adigeon Prime, that he was there for two months, and that his IQ, reflexes, stamina, vision, and hand-eye coordination were all messed with, as well as a few enhancements to his height and weight. Those were the ones he’d been told about. He also knew that he had enhanced strength as well. That might not have been an intended upgrade, just a side effect of another one. His other senses seemed to be as enhanced as his vision, but he vaguely remembered them being like that before Adigeon Prime. He remembered his first grade classroom being too loud. His father thought it was an excuse to get out of work, but he thought that about anything that Julian complained about.

After Julian left the Romulans alone to argue, the Vorta came in with a Jem’Hadar. The Jem’Hadar grabbed Julian and dragged him out of the room without saying a word. They took him into a room he’d never seen before. The room was small and a bit dark. Elim would’ve hated it. Julian was thrust into a chair by the Jem’Hadar, who then stepped back to guard the door.

“We’ve lost contact with the Founder who replaced you. He was only on Deep Space Nine for a few hours before we lost contact, implying that he was discovered almost immediately.”

“And you think that I somehow had something to do with it?”

“There’s no way you could’ve informed them or otherwise been directly involved, but I believe that you might know why this happened. Does Deep Space Nine have a method of detecting the Founders that we don’t know about?”

“I don’t think so. If there is, nobody told me about it.”

But, Julian could easily figure out what’d happened. The Changelings either didn’t know about Cardassian pheromonal marks, or they were unable to replicate them. If they knew about the marks, it would explain why the Founders didn’t infiltrate Cardassia the same way they did with the Klingons. They didn’t know that they were trying to replicate a Human with a Cardassian pheromonal mark that a Cardassian on the station could detect the absence of. They didn’t know about him and Elim.

The Dominion was normally great at gathering intelligence, but this might’ve fallen into a blindspot. Odo had often complained about the mating and courtship rituals of Solids and how they took up so much time and attention as the subject of gossip. He considered them trivial. The Dominion didn’t consider intimate relationships between Solids as something that could affect their plans.

Julian knew what’d happened. He also knew that he wasn’t going to tell the Vorta. It wouldn’t be easy to withhold the information. He wasn’t sure what methods the Dominion used to interrogate people with information they wanted. Were they like Romulans, using technology to take information out of people’s minds? Were they like the Cardassians, skilled in various methods of torture?

“So, if it’s not the Federation, perhaps there’s some other influence on the station that could’ve detected the Founder with an unknown method.”

“I can’t think of anyone who could’ve done that.”

“Are you sure? Perhaps we could help you remember…”

“I’m certain that there’s nothing you could force out of me that would be of any help to you. Now, may I please be dismissed?”

“You’re not going anywhere. I don’t believe you. When I mentioned the possibility of another influence on the station, I saw a hint of a smile. You know how the Founder was detected.”

“If I did, I’d know better than to hand that information over to the Dominion.”

“It would be far wiser to cooperate with us, Doctor. Without the Founder, we have no reason to keep you alive. But, if you have useful information for us, then we just might have a reason after all.”

“And as soon as you get what you want, you’ll once again have no reason to keep me alive. That’s just another reason why I shouldn’t tell you.”

“Alright. It seems like a choice between life and death is off the figurative table. How about a choice between a painful life and a peaceful death?”

“Nothing you do could convince me to tell you what you want to hear. I can survive whatever you throw at me and however painful it may be, I will take pride in the knowledge that I survived it. You can’t break me.”

Julian knew perfectly well that he could be broken, but the Vorta didn’t know how. That was another piece of information to keep from him. There was also the fact that after the time he’d been broken, Elim taught him new ways to defend himself. He knew how to resist most forms of mind probes and telepathy if he focused hard enough. He could control his vital signs. He could control his thoughts. He knew how to face interrogation, to protect himself from torture.

No matter where he was, Elim protected him. Elim’s mark protected him from being replaced by a Changeling. Elim’s training protected him from torture. Now, Julian had everything he needed to protect himself. He didn’t need his lover there to rescue him in order to protect himself. The ‘er of Rakret H’ssti’er meant “always”. Always extended far beyond what anyone seemed to be prepared for. 

He was strong. He’d survive. He had everything he needed. When the Vorta called the Jem’Hadar forward, Julian was ready. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write prison chapters without getting dark in multiple ways. I'm not sure if that's a problem or not.


	9. The Bruises Beneath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In solitary confinement, there's nothing for Julian to do but dwell on his past, probably hallucinating it as well.
> 
> CW: References to torture, solitary confinement (the only torture that's shown), hallucinations (or are they nightmares?)

“Clear a bed for him. Now.”

“Julian, can you hear me?”

“I…I’ll be alright. I can hear you. They didn’t actually work on me for very long. I knocked myself out whenever they tried anything. They’re getting a bit frustrated with that.”

“You can will yourself unconscious?”

“I can control my vital signs if I focus hard enough.”

From a bed in the back corner, Tain spoke.

“You couldn’t do that back when I had you. Did Elim teach you that? That’s an Obsidian Order mental exercise and he taught it to a Human…If he still worked for me, I’d exile him all over again!”

Julian decided not to point out that this technique was normally impossible for Humans to imitate and he had to rely on his enhancements to do it.

“Pythas, have you been able to finish the transmitter?”

“It won’t be much longer. We can only send a one word message. I wouldn’t risk a longer one. Our signal could be detected. It should be something that he’d know was definitely from you or connected to you in some way.”

“Hmm…It might sound incredibly silly, but try ‘Kukalaka’”

“Do you know how to spell that in the Cardassian alphabet?”

“I could spell it in Standard and you could convert it to Cardassian equivalents. You’re familiar with the Standard alphabet, aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

It turned out that “KUkalaka” was fairly easy to spell. As soon as the transmitter was complete, the message would be sent.

In the mean time, the days dragged on. Julian was taken for interrogation, which he made impossible, he was given his reduced rations, he accepted extra scraps from the regular rations of the Cardassian prisoners, he patched up Klingons who’d fought the Jem’Hadar, and then he’d collapse from exhaustion. The only good news was that Pythas sent his message, having no idea how long it would take to reach Deep Space Nine, how long it would take before Odo let Elim decode it, or how long it would take to launch a rescue mission. But, it would be over soon.

There were two days where the Vorta had him all day. He was kept in the interrogation room all night, not allowed to sleep. It wasn’t a sort of physical pain he could pass out under. The interrogation room was set up to project some sort of field that made sleep impossible. The Vorta was catching on. Julian could resist pain and hide from brain scans, so he’d switched tactics. Julian was pretty sure that if he became heavily sleep-deprived, he wouldn’t even remember the information the Vorta wanted. However, even this interrogation technique was taking too long. Julian’s enhanced stamina allowed him to stay awake for two days straight. The Vorta lost patience and let him go while he thought of a new tactic.

Julian joined the others in his barrack for breakfast, only to find that their wasn’t any.

“Ration cuts.” Martok explained, “We’ll get only one meal a day until further notice.”

“And they expect you to fight like that?! I thought the Jem’Hadar battled Klingons because they wanted a challenge. If you’re all starving, you won’t be in good enough condition to be a challenge!”

“Try telling that to the Jem’Hadar.”

Julian did tell the Jem’Hadar. Nothing angered them more than being denied a fight, the tougher the better. The Vorta was most likely trying to get prisoners killed to make space for more, but the Jem’Hadar genuinely enjoyed fighting the Klingons and didn’t want to lose them unless they killed them personally in battle without help. The Jem’Hadar were loyal to the Founders, but weren’t nearly as loyal to the Vorta and could be turned against them. There was now a possibility for an uprising. Like with Tain and Ortek, he turned the leader and his subordinates against each other, upsetting the power structure, making it harder to get anything done.

But, Jem’Hadar were easier to replace than Obsidian Order agents. The Vorta just had the disloyal executed and brought in new ones. The new ones obeyed the Vorta and dragged Julian off to yet another new location: an isolation cell.

“Five days in isolation. Any more trouble out of you and you will die.” 

And so, they left him. At first, Julian wasn’t afraid. He could spend most of the five days unconscious if it came down to it. However, he soon realized that though he could render himself unconscious, he had no control over how long he stayed out. It was a matter of focus, and being unconscious made that impossible. He tried to meditate through it, but there was a field around the cell similar to the one in the interrogation room and it threw him off. That also meant that sleep was out of the question.

After the first two days, the field shut off and the Jem’Hadar brought him food. He hadn’t even noticed that they hadn’t before. He retreated into his mind, not by choice but as a response to realizing he didn’t have one. He drifted in and out of reality, not sure whether he was dreaming or hallucinating when he saw things. He knew that hallucinations were common in solitary confinement, so it wouldn’t have surprised him.

Most of it was nonsense. The walls whispered in a language that Julian didn’t know. He saw cobwebs in the corners of the cell, even though that was impossible for a cell on a lifeless asteroid. Sometimes, the whispers were coherent, though they usually just said random words. But, they repeated the phrase “come to me” every now and again and Julian wondered if he was hearing the voice of death.

_“Julian…Julian…Come to me.”_

“How? You’re not even real. You’re not in a place I could go to.”

_“I only want to help you…Where are you hiding?”_

His mind was making the hallucinations more specific. He’d taken a step deeper into madness.

“I’m not hiding.”

_“Come out of there, Julian. Don’t be afraid. We’re not killing you. Don’t be silly.”_

Oh. Julian remembered this. On Adigeon Prime, there was one day where he tried to avoid the doctors by hiding under his bed. When they found him he begged them not to kill him. He didn’t want to die and he felt like he was. There were headaches from so many thoughts in his head that it felt like they were going to burst through his skull. His mind wasn’t made to handle that much and it was being warped and twisted to fit all the new information and it hurt. He was confused by the doctors. He wasn’t sick when he was left in the hospital. Then, the doctors started treating him and now he was. Why were the doctors making him sick? Did his father pay them, whatever that meant, to punish him for not being smart like the other kids?

When he left the hospital, there was a time where Julian was afraid to upset his parents. His grades had to be perfect, his attitude always positive, and he had to be ready, willing, and able to face whatever the forced on him. If he didn’t repeat the strings of numbers they’d put in his head when Dad asked him to, he might send him back to the hospital to be punished again. Every yearly check-up, every trip to a doctor’s office for any reason, made him worry that he’d done something wrong.

In solitary confinement, there was no distraction from these dark thoughts, the bad memories he’d sealed away in the back of his mind.

_“Don’t raise your voice, Jules.”_

“I wasn’t.”

_“Don’t use that tone, Jules.”_

“What tone?”

_“Stop complaining and finish your homework, Jules!”_

“I’m trying!”

_“Look at me when I’m talking to you!”_

_“Put that toy back in your room. You’re too old to be carrying it around in public.”_

_“Stop doing that! People are staring at us. When you do that, people think I’m a bad mother.”_

_“I had to pull strings, going outside of the Federation, to earn and pay good money to have you fixed and you’re still like this! You’ve become a disrespectful, spoiled brat!”_

“SHUT UP!!!”

But, Julian was alone. There was no one there to scream at.

_“Tain, wouldn’t me have you, Lok wouldn’t let me have you, but Dukat said I could have you!”_

Ortek was there.

No, Ortek was dead. Julian had to ignore him.

_“You said you would help us…”_

The Teplans. The Quickening. Some of them had to be alive. The people he failed.

_“Hey, Julian! Come meet the star of the show!”_

_“You…You were amazing! What’s your name? I’m afraid I didn’t get a copy of the program.”_

_“Palis. Palis Delon.”_

And then there were the people he left behind.

…

_Paris, 2368:_

_“Palis, this is silly.”_

_“Julian! Look.”_

_“Why?”_

_“I’m trying to explain something.”_

_“Alright. I’m looking.”_

_“As a dancer, you think I’m beautiful, graceful, don’t you?”_

_“Of course!”_

_“But, this is what’s underneath all that. Beneath any graceful dancer, there’s a pair of ugly, bruised feet. You practice, you break yourself, but no one sees it, because you hide it all away. All anyone else gets to see is the dance.”_

_“They’re not that bad. A dancer has to have good arches, doesn’t she?”_

_“A good shape helps, but practice is what makes perfect. You take what you have and you beat it down into what people actually want, and you hide the damage.”_

_“I’m no dancer, but something about that sounds familiar…”_

_“It happened to you too, Julian. But, it’s your mind you had to beat down, not your feet. Your parents noticed you were a gifted child and they had you study, cram more and more facts into your head, and now you’re mind works quickly, far more gracefully than the rest of you, but you’ve got your share of ugly bruises in there too.”_

_“I’m not quite sure what you mean…”_

_“Julian, do you know why I’m showing you this?”_

_“Not really.”_

_“Because I want you to know that this is something we have in common. I trust you enough to show you all the damage I’ve taken for my profession, and I want you to know that you don’t have to hide yours from me. I’ll understand.”_

…

No, she wouldn’t have understood. Julian wasn’t born bright. His mind wasn’t his own. It was something his father had installed for him. Palis wouldn’t have wanted a cheat. His father bought him his brain and Palis’ father was going to hand him a good career, regardless of what he did. He’d only offered him the job because he was dating his daughter.

He’d also have to spend his entire life with someone he’d be forced to lie to. The scars on her feet came from ballet practice. The scars in his mind were surgical. It wasn’t the same thing. 

…

_“Palis, I’ve already attended Starfleet Academy. This can’t really surprise you, can it?”_

_“Why can’t I come with you? I’d go anywhere with you.”_

_“And where will you dance? You’ll just be sitting around our quarters as a housewife who gave up everything for her husband’s career. And your husband would have no time for you, even though he loved you very much. Everything would fall apart.”_

_“We can live separately. You’ll have to return to Earth someday. I can wait.”_

_“I don’t intend to ever return to Earth. Not permanently. For reasons I can’t explain, this world has never been very hospitable to me and I need to find a new one.”_

_“You call the whole world inhospitable and yet you still met me!”_

_“You’re not the whole world, Palis. You’re one person, and, as much as I love you, as much as I’d love to spend my life with you, as much as you’re the person I want, I don’t think you’re the person I need. Find someone better than me. Most men probably are. There’s a man out there who will love you passionately, who will never leave your side, and he belongs here on Earth. I wish that man was me, but he isn’t.”_

_“Very well. Fine. Have a wonderful life chasing girls in the stars. I doubt you’ll belong in any of their worlds either.”_

…

Julian wasn’t sure whether he was awake or sleeping. He felt like he might be crying, but he wasn’t sure of that either. He knew he was hallucinating now, straight-up having what felt like visions, though he doubted they meant anything. Just random images: An old computer, one of Palis’ ballet slippers, a treehouse, an orange star that felt strangely familiar…

“On your feet.”

A Jem’Hadar. Julian let himself be thrown out into the hallway. He thought he’d just crash to the floor but something got in his way and broke his fall. Perhaps Martok and come to escort him back to the barracks.

No, that wasn’t it. He wasn’t being moved. He was just being held there. Someone’s arms were around him. They moved to place something soft in his hands.

“Kukalaka?”

“I thought he might be useful under these circumstances.”

That voice. He’d missed that voice.

“Elim!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I just turned Julian's Foot Things into something deep and symbolically meaningful. I don't know how or why this happened.


	10. Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak and Julian are reunited, but so are Garak and Tain. But, I dying man is easy to ignore when he stays silent.
> 
> CW: Reference to an attempted sexual assault in an earlier chapter

Once the message came in, it’d all been easy enough. Odo summoned Garak to his office to decipher some bit of Obsidian Order code. It wasn’t a common code in the Order. It was a code that Tain had taught Garak personally, along with a few other trusted associates. The message was clearly a reference to Julian, but this most likely meant that Tain was alive and in the same place that Julian was.

Garak ran. He wasn’t going to waste any time. But, quite unexpectedly, Worf stopped him from stealing a runabout. He was stealing it because he had no time for Starfleet bureaucracy. If Captain Sisko had his way, Garak wouldn’t be allowed to come along on the rescue mission at all. He’d put his Julian in the hands of incompetent Starfleet officers. Garak thought he’d been very discreet, so this setback was as baffling as it was frustrating.

“How did you know I was coming here?”

“I was informed by a reliable source that you received a message that seemed to have captured your interest. She believed that you were about to put yourself in danger and told me to keep an eye on you.”

Ziyal. Of course it would be her. He was the only one on the station besides Julian who cared that much about his well-being. Sure enough, when he got the mess sorted out, convincing the Captain to let him track the message to the Gamma Quadrant, Ziyal was there to complain.

“If something were to happen to you, I don’t know what I’d do!”

“You’ll still have young Sisko, won’t you?”

“You can call him Jake, you know. He doesn’t mind. But…”

“I know. I’m the only other Cardassian on the station who doesn't have a child to worry about or an infirmary to win the trust of.”

“It’s not just that. You’re the kindest Cardassian I’ve ever met!”

“Then I doubt you’ve met many Cardassians, dear child.”

“Perhaps I haven’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that I care about you. You care about me too, in some way. In the simulation…you were the one who tried to help me. I was so scared and you were the only one who didn’t ignore it!”

“The others ignored it because you told them too. I was the only one who ignored you when you said that.”

“I didn’t know that I actually wanted to talk to someone then. I just wanted to forget. You knew me better than I did.”

“Knowing people better than they know themselves is what the Obsidian Order trained me to do.”

“I don’t care how you knew. What matters is that you were there for me when I needed you.”

“And right now, Julian needs me. I have to be there for him.”

“I know. It’s just…What if-“

“Ziyal, no matter what happens, no matter how bleak things might look, I promise you, I will come back. I give you my word.”

He held out his hand and they touched palms, a common affectionate gesture between family.

And then Dukat showed up to cause more problems.

“Take your hands off her!”

Dukat grabbed Garak by the throat and shoved him into a nearby safety rail over the Promenade. If he pushed much further, he’d fall to his death. But, that’s not what Garak was thinking about at that moment. He was thinking about how Dukat didn’t notice Ziyal backing away from him, pulling away from the man she last saw in a nightmare.

“Father…Please…Please, don’t…”

She was too upset to speak clearly.

“Let him go!”

And then along came Jake Sisko to save the day. But, now Ziyal was scared for him.

“Jake! Don’t.”

Dukat shoved Garak aside, letting him hit the floor instead of falling to his death, and turned his attention to Jake.

“Is there something going on here that I don’t know about?”

“Father! He didn’t do anything wrong! No one did anything wrong!”

Dukat turned to his daughter and began acting as if the boy wasn’t there, allowing him to escape. He was in just as much danger of being thrown over the railing as Garak was. Captain Sisko was another enemy and Dukat most likely didn’t want Ziyal to be dating his son.

“It’s good to see you again, Ziyal.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I had a skirmish with a Klingon battle cruiser. My ship was damaged, so I came here for repairs…and to spend some time with you.”

He led Ziyal away to have a talk about how he loathed everyone she’d chosen to associate with. Garak was confident that he wouldn’t harm her, though it probably wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation. He couldn’t be her bodyguard right now. He was needed elsewhere. It felt like there was a magnet in his chest pulling him towards the runabout, towards the Gamma Quadrant, towards Julian.

When the runabout was captured, Garak didn’t care. He knew he was at the right place and he’d figure out how to get out of it as soon as he had what he’d come to retrieve. They were sidetracked by Worf running into General Martok, the real General Martok, who’d apparently been in the prison for two years and lost an eye along the way.

It was strange to see how many Romulans and Klingons there were. Both were the types to kill themselves when captured. Romulans always preferred death over disgrace. Cardassians were more pragmatic. If it was at all possible to escape captivity, to return to serving the State, you did. Klingons apparently had similar ideals.

“Aren’t you Klingons supposed to kill yourselves when you’re taken prisoner?”

“Not when there are enemies to fight.”

“Or hope of escape.”

“I underestimated your intelligence, apparently.”

“As long as you don’t repeat that mistake, I’ll ignore it. So, you must be Garak. Half this barrack’s been talking about you.”

“I had no idea I was so popular.”

“Come with me to the barracks and see if you can shut them up a bit.”

The barrack was clearly getting crowded. There were two Romulans, a Breen, and four Cardassians waiting around. One of the Cardassians turned to and nearly ran to him. Despite the horrid scarring on his face, Garak could recognize his old friend.

“Pythas.”

“Garak.”

“How’d you end up in a place like this?”

“I had to get rid of Tain without offending Mila, so I couldn’t kill him. I thought I could hand him over the Dominion, have him stranded in the Gamma Quadrant, thinking they’d just accept the offer of a prisoner from someone approaching uncloaked, in good faith, and clearly not trying to trespass. The Jem’Hadar weren’t convinced.”

“That has to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

“I know. I'm serving a life sentence for it. Now, I know he’s not who you’re really here for, but you should speak to Tain before you go looking for your mate. The old man’s dying, so you should try to humor him for a bit.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“It’s his heart.”

“There are a lot of people who’d say he doesn’t have one.”

“Yourself included?”

“Until very recently, I wasn’t sure.”

“He was convinced that you’d come, you know. Multiple people have been waiting for you here.”

“Yourself included?”

“I’m not sure.”

Deciding to get it over with, Garak woke Tain up.

“Tain? Tain, I’m here.”

“The message. It got through.”

“It did.”

“Where are the others?”

“There are no others. Just Commander Worf and I.”

“You allowed yourselves to be taken prisoner? Living on that station has dulled your wits.”

Garak was tempted to argue with his father, ask why he couldn’t be more grateful, but why should he be? Tain wasn’t who he came to save.

No one had been paying any attention to the Romulans, so no one noticed that one had stepped out and returned with news.

“They’re releasing him from isolation.”

“Good.”

“Who?” Worf asked, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“Someone who’ll be happy to see you.”

Garak struggled to keep his composure, not wanting to attract the attention of the Jem’Hadar by running down the corridor. Both Romulans joined them and a few other prisoners were crowded around as well. 

When the door was opened and the prisoner pushed out, too weak to keep his balance, Garak stepped forward to catch him. He appeared to be unaware of his surroundings at first, not reacting to anything. Garak kept one arm around him while reaching into his bag, which contained no weapons so he’d been allowed to keep it, with the other and grabbed Kukalaka. The presence of the toy seemed to snap Julian out of his trance.

“Elim!”

“I’m right here, Julian. I’m sorry that I took so long.”

“Why do you always apologize when you know you’re already forgiven?”

Garak pulled him closer, sweeping him off his feet that weren’t supporting him. He carried him back to the barracks and sat him down on one of the bunks. The other prisoners kept their distance, seemingly aware that this was something that shouldn’t be interrupted. He performed his usual searches, like the ones he’d done on the Changeling over a month ago. Julian stopped him from removing his uniform.

“People are watching!”

“Alright. Just tell me what’s been done to you.”

“Not much, all in all. They tried to beat me but I knocked myself out like you taught me to, so it didn’t really work. Isolation wasn’t exactly pleasant and I’m very tired, but I’ve been worse.”

Garak breathed over his so’c. Julian would often downplay any health problems he was having to keep people from worrying. Garak could taste high levels of stress and exhaustion. He wasn’t seriously injured or ill, but he was weaker than he was willing to admit and he’d been hurt badly mentally, if not physically. He was also lighter than when Garak had last seen him. He’d lost weight, which wasn’t good for someone with his build.

“You need to rest.”

“Not until I’ve spent a bit more time with you. You only just arrived.”

“And your sleep hasn’t been particularly restful.” 

“I haven’t been allowed to get much of it, actually.”

“Then rest. Now.”

Garak gently pushed Julian to lie down on the bed he was sitting on. Julian instinctively struggled and pushed back, using the enhanced strength he normally suppressed, knocking Garak back and flinging him halfway across the room.

“Julian…”

“Oh god! I’m sorry, Elim! How badly did I hurt you?”

Garak stood up and returned to his lover’s side.

“Not at all. In fact, I’m the one who should apologize. That clearly wasn’t the right thing to do.”

“I know you meant well. It’s just…”

“Seeing Tain again brought back a few bad memories.”

“Yeah, and…”

“And what, Julian? What happened?”

Garak hadn’t picked up on any new pheromonal marks on Julian, but a non-Cardassian wouldn’t leave one and it was possible for a Cardassian male to engage in some sexual acts without marking if they were careful.

“Did somebody hurt you again?”

“No. They just tried to, but Martok and I fought them off. They didn’t hurt me. Well, one of them bit before Martok showed up to pull him off me, but they didn’t get any further than that.”

“He tried to claim you. He thought he’d subdued you.”

Garak wanted to reclaim Julian, bite him again, declare that this man was his. But, he was aware that that wasn’t a good idea at the moment.

“So, the bite implies that your attackers were Cardassian and you said there was more than one of them.”

“Two. Rogesh and Emok. They’ve been treating me like a king ever since they found out I was with you.”

“I don’t know any Obsidian Order agents by those names. They must be new. Apparently, I’ve become a legend.”

“And I think the Order’s gone downhill since you left. Neither one of them is very bright.”

“They’ve started rushing the recruiting process.”

There was a pause. Garak had no idea what for. They just both stopped talking and stared at each, Julian hugging Kukalaka to his chest.

“Elim?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I’m glad you came.”

“Despite the miserable state of this place, so am I.”

Julian practically pounced on Garak and threw his arms around him. Garak returned the embrace and laid down on the bed, slowly bringing Julian with him. He didn’t seem to object to this. Maybe it was because they were both on the same level. With his arms around Kukalaka and Garak’s arms around him, Julian finally fell asleep.


	11. Disobedient Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of time for conversations between Cardassians and children stand up to their fathers.

“I want you to go to your quarters and pack your things. There’s a ship leaving for Cardassia in the morning. I want you on it.”

“You’re sending me to Cardassia?”

“I’ve just learned that there’s a Dominion fleet headed for the wormhole. This place isn’t safe anymore.”

“Cardassia isn’t safe for me either, you know.”

“It’ll be different this time, I promise. I’m not going to let any harm come to you. Now, I think you’d better get ready to leave.”

Ziyal knew better than to say that whether he knew it or not, her father had already harmed her himself. Even if it hadn’t really happened to her, she couldn’t forget about it when she was near him. Her father had never hurt her, but he’d hurt other people and she knew what it was like to be one of them. She felt like the ghost of Batare haunted her at times. She was with her in the Shrine when she prayed. Perhaps it was because she’d gone to the Prophets when she died.

“Stay away from him.” The ghost kept saying, “Run away and don’t look back. If you hesitate, you will die.”

…

“I should let that monster die alone and forgotten.”

“It’s too late for that now.”

Julian was still asleep, his head against Garak’s shoulder and his limbs wrapped around him like vines. But, Garak was awake, on guard, his instincts refusing to let him rest until his Julian was safe. Now, he was talking to Pythas, who’d stayed up to keep him company.

“My whole life, I’ve done nothing but try to please that man. I let him mold me, turn me into a mirror image of himself. And how did he repay me? With exile. But, I forgave him. I forgave him for everything he ever did to me until-“

“-Until he did something to someone else. He could’ve done anything to you and you would’ve forgiven him, but when your mate was targeted, something changed. And now, you feel guilty, because you’ve worshipped the old man all your life and still feel like that’s what you’re supposed to be doing, but you’ve finally hit a point where you just can’t do it anymore.”

“You’re quite perceptive.”

“I got the same training you did. I hate to see you falling for the same old trap, Elim. Sentiment. The greatest weakness of all, remember?”

“Tain was the one who taught me that. I think that was his way of explaining why he was never kind to me. He didn’t want to put me in danger.”

“It’s sentimental to believe that he actually cared and pretended not to because he cared. The more obvious answer is that he didn’t care and lied about it so you wouldn’t betray him, no matter what he did to you.”

“And then sentiment clashed with sentiment.”

“And it’s seems like your sentiment towards your mate won out. And, from what I heard, you saved his life.”

“Rakret H’ssti’er.”

“He told me all about it. He talked about you a lot. He makes it sound like sentiment somehow made you stronger.”

“A very Federation way of thinking about things.”

“And yet, I think you might agree.”

“He’s a very persuasive young man. Perhaps you’re right. He’s given me strength, not weakness. Outside of Cardassia, I needed something to fight for and there he was. He fought for me first, refused to let me die when my implant was breaking. Then, he came to me, deeply distraught because he saw me die in a simulation. He was confused by the strong emotion it brought out in him, just as I was confused by the strong emotion he’d brought out in me. I realized that we were going through the same crisis and the solution was obvious. When I kissed him, he returned it with an enthusiasm that made it seem like his life depended on it. He needed me.”

“And you need him.”

“Sometimes I think that it’s less that I need him and more like I need him to need me.”

“That’s still needing him, in a way. Even if it isn’t, you’ve both saved each other’s lives, so you’re even, if that’s what matters to you.”

“It’s important to him. Humans see equality between partners as vitally important for relationships. He’s complained before about feeling like the inferior partner.”

“Isn’t he the inferior partner, though? I don’t mean that in a rude way. I’m just stating a fact. You’re older and stronger and he needs your protection.”

“That doesn’t make him inferior.”

“Maybe not on Earth.”

“There are plenty of people on Earth who see him as an inferior as well. I don’t understand the reasons at all. The Federation makes a big show out of their tolerance, but it has more limits than they’ll ever admit. It doesn’t apply to Cardassians, because we don’t want to be like them, we don’t envy them, we don’t look upon them with the awe they’ve come to expect.”

“But he’s not Cardassian. Why do they view him as inferior?”

“Because of something that was done to him against his will by people from a perfect world who couldn’t accept anything that didn’t fit their picture of perfection. I can’t tell you any more than that. It’s a matter of his safety.”

The next morning, Tain was dying. Garak and Julian were taking a walk between the barracks, looking for wounded Klingons in need of medical attention, when Pythas called to them.

“If you wish to speak to Tain, do it now.”

A Cardassian on his death bed would traditionally gather his family and list their surviving enemies to make sure that someone knew to deal with them. No one else was allowed to see them. Spouses, children, siblings, parents, cousins, and the spouses and children of children, siblings, and cousins were allowed, but no one else. It was still preferred for relatives by marriage to stay away. Garak, as Tain’s son, was the only one who should’ve been allowed to see him. But, if spouses of the dying’s children were allowed, Garak believed that Julian should qualify. They weren’t enjoined. By traditions of Human courtship, it would be rushing things to consider that just yet, but Garak was beginning to believe that it would happen eventually. 

Whatever counted as appropriate by tradition, Garak wanted Julian to be there, to see Tain die, to know that the man couldn’t hurt him or anyone else ever again. So, he signaled for Julian to follow him, tradition and consequences be damned.

“Elim…Elim, is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Everything’s gone dark. I can’t see you. Are you alone?”

Garak quickly glanced at Julian, signaled for him to be quiet.

“Yes. There’s no one here but you and me.”

“Surjak, Memad, Brun…they can’t be trusted. They must be dealt with.”

Tain’s old enemies, rivals in the Order from before Tain took charge. They were all dead from “accidents” that occurred during various missions with Garak.

“I’ve already taken care of it.”

“What about Gul Vorlem? Have you been able to contact him?”

“Years ago.”

It was before he was exiled. He was certain that Tain knew about it. Perhaps his mind was fading.

“The Romulan ambassador?”

Tain had ordered that one. Yes, his mind was going.

“Gone. All of your enemies are dead.”

“Good. A man shouldn’t allow his enemies to outlive him.”

“Then you can die happy…Unless you still consider me an enemy.”

“Elim…promise me one thing.”

“I’m listening.”

“Don’t die here. Escape. Live.”

“So I can make the Dominion pay for what they’ve done to you?”

“You wouldn’t deny an old man his revenge, would you?”

“Are you asking me as a mentor, a superior officer, or a father asking his son?”

Tain’s response was immediate.

“You’re not my son.”

“Father, you’re dying. For once in your life, speak the truth.”

“I should have killed your mother before you were born. You’ve always been a weakness I can’t afford.”

“So you’ve told me. Many times. Why didn’t you kill me, if I was such a terrible weakness?”

“I knew you’d be useful to the Order.”

“I’d accuse you of being sentimental, but you never were. Not towards me, anyway. Perhaps it was Mila that you didn’t want to kill. You put your mate above all else in that moment. That must be where I got it from.”

“I wasn’t going to kill another good operative. Elim, let’s not argue while I’m dying.”

“Then don’t argue. Just listen. Everything you’ve ever done to me, I’ve forgiven. I’d always find some justification. I’d tell myself that you were being cruel because you cared, or because I deserved to be punished. I lied to myself more than anyone else. But, then you had Julian kidnapped. You messed with his mind as a sick joke, putting him in my place to live out a fantasy of having a submissive child at your side, or in your bed. You had him tortured, you tortured him yourself, you raped him, you broke him, and then you ordered me to do the same. If you cared about me, even if you had to express it through cruelty, you’d have simply sent an assassin. As for punishment, I was exiled, already being punished, and you just wanted to twist the knife. It was all about control with you. You wanted to regain power over me when it became clear that you’d lost it, when there was anyone in my life that I considered more important than you. I’m done forgiving you, Father, and you can go to your grave knowing that you have no power over me.”

“You figured it out? I’m…very proud of you…my son…”

And that was the end of Enabran Tain.

…

“It’s about time. You almost missed the transport.”

But, Ziyal had made up her mind. Cardassia wasn’t her home. It never had been. She’d spent most of her life on Terok Nor. This station was where she was born and where she’d spent her childhood. This was her home. She didn’t intend to leave.

“Where’s your baggage? Never mind. I’ll have it sent to you.”

“That won’t be necessary, Father. I’m not leaving.”

In his eyes, she could see what she’d seen before, when she first saw how he looked at people who weren’t her. There was an irrational anger of a tyrant who expected to be obeyed without question and would punish those who didn’t. Ziyal was another disloyal Bajoran now.

“Ziyal, I know we haven’t spent much time together, but I think you know me well enough to realize that when I give an order, I expect to be obeyed.”

“I’m not one of your soldiers.”

“No. You’re my daughter.”

“And Tora Naprem’s daughter, too. I’m half Bajoran. I don’t belong on Cardassia. You know I’ll never be accepted there.”

“Ziyal, you have to trust me. Things are going to change on Cardassia.”

“What things?”

“I don’t have time to explain. You’re leaving. Now.”

Things were going to change. Ziyal had a feeling that they weren’t about to change for the better. She had to stay away. Even if the station was in danger, it was safer than Cardassia. Garak would come back and he’d protect her. Even without him, there was Nerys and Mursa and Narin and Jake and everyone else she’d come to know and love.

“I can’t go.”

“It’s him, isn’t it? That despicable tailor. You don’t want to leave because you’re waiting for him.”

Ziyal sensed a hint of jealousy in her father’s reaction. His enemy had taken his place. For the first time, she thought of that consciously and accepted it. Garak was capable of doing bad things, but her father was worse than him. Her father liked hurting people who didn’t respect him the way he wanted them to. Garak made himself hurt people because he believed it was his duty. As someone who wasn’t giving Gul Dukat the respect he believed he deserved, she wasn’t safe anymore. She needed Garak. He knew how to fight off her father when he needed to and he was glad to do so.

“Garak promised me he’d come back. He made a promise. And so did I. I said I’d wait for him, and I will.”

“Is a promise made to an enemy of your family more important than obeying your father?”

“He’s your enemy, not mine.”

“Fine! Stay here if that’s what you want! Stay here and be damned!”

And with that, he was gone. Ziyal knew at that moment that she’d become an orphan. She was hurt. She was afraid. But, at the same time, she was relieved.


	12. No Way Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dominion prisoners attempt to put their escape plan into action.

“Elim…”

“Don’t worry about it, Julian. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life decoding the last breaths of a dying man. Now, since my business here is done, I suggest we find a way out of here.”

Julian rallied the troops into the barrack to strategize. He had no idea why they were treating him as a leader. It seemed to be a sort of chain of connections. The Cardassians obeyed Pythas and the Klingons obeyed Martok, and they both listened to Julian. The Romulans always volunteered to keep watch.

Worf was the one who had the first good idea. The transmitter could be modified to contact the runabout Elim and Worf had arrived in. They could tell it to beam them out.

“Are you sure the runabout is still in orbit?”

“For some reason, they’ve just left it there. If we don’t call attention to it, that hopefully won’t change.”

“We’ll have to work quickly. The longer it takes, the more time they’ll have to notice their mistake.”

Elim was naturally skeptical.

“Are you sure it _is_ a mistake? It could be some sort of trap.”

“I’d rather walk into a trap than ignore a potential means of escape.”

“Fair enough. But, re-encoding the transmitter won’t be easy. We’ll have to reconfigure the array, one circuit at a time.”

“Can you do it?”

Only someone observing very closely could’ve noticed the flash of panic in Elim’s eyes.

“Me?”

“I’m no engineer and neither is Worf. But you, my dearest Elim, are a man of many hidden talents.”

Julian thought that a bit of flirtation might put Elim at ease, but it wasn’t quite working. Julian wished he could do the work himself. The crawlspace didn’t frighten him. In his own experience, small spaces were great places for hiding and he usually felt perfectly safe in them. If the transmitter was of a Federation model, he might’ve been able to figure it out. But, he knew next to nothing about Cardassian technology. The Cardassian education Elim had given him covered language, literature, and social studies, but not science. 

“I’m sorry, Elim, but if you can’t do it, no one can.”

Forcing Elim to confront his claustrophobia under pressure was a bad idea, but there was nothing else that could be done about it. Elim understood this and tried to lighten the mood.

“It’s nice to feel needed.”

Before Elim could begin his work, the intercom activated.

“All prisoners assemble immediately. I repeat. All prisoners assemble immediately.”

Somehow, the assembly began with a mood that reminded Julian of a school assembly. Prisoners whispered to their neighbors and were reprimanded by the Jem’Hadar like strict schoolmasters. But, of course it didn’t last. The Vorta, whose name Julian had finally learned to be Deyos, without any introduction or build-up, gave a command.

“All Cardassian prisoners, step forward.”

Reluctantly, Elim, Pythas, and the others all obeyed.

“I am pleased to announce that the hostilities between our peoples have ended. As of today, Cardassia has joined the Dominion. Therefore, you are all being sent home. Congratulations on your new status as Dominion citizens.”

Apparently, Cardassia had decided on an “if you can’t beat them, join them” policy, possibly an act of desperation to protect themselves. Cardassia had been weakened by the loss of Bajor, the near destruction of the Obsidian Order, a political coup that ultimately achieved nothing, and a war with the Klingon Empire that nobody was prepared for. It made sense that they, of all people, would simply surrender to the next threat to approach them rather than risk annihilation in their weakened state.

But, as understandable as it was, it went without saying that it was a bad decision, since the Dominion couldn’t be trusted. Even if they could, Julian overheard when the singular Female Changeling told Elim that the Dominion intended to destroy Cardassia no matter what happened. Cardassia was ironically being placed in a situation similar to what it had placed Bajor in. They let the conquerors in.

On the bright side, if Elim and Pythas were free to leave the prison, they’d be able to find help, to bring more people to free the rest of them. Elim was aware of this, too, clearly, and he turned to Julian for an exchange of silent communication.

_“If I go, will you be alright? Will you forgive me for leaving you again?”_

_“Go, Elim. I know you’ll return for me.”_

Pythas went ahead with no chance to say anything to anyone before his departure. Julian didn’t know if he intended to help the remaining prisoners. His goal was most likely to return to Cardassia and focus on combating the Dominion Occupation. Cardassia would have to come first.

But, as Elim went to follow the rest of his people, Deyos stopped him.

“Not you, Mister Garak. You’re staying.”

“Excuse me? The last time I checked, I was a Cardassian.”

“But not a very popular one, I’m afraid. At least not with the head of the new Cardassian government.”

“And who would that be?”

“Gul Dukat.”

Later that day, the prisoners were allowed to see some Dominion News broadcasts. They were the only source of information about the outside world that they were allowed, but they were blatant propaganda, almost completely useless. But, this time, Julian actually got to see Gul Dukat making a speech to the Cardassian people.

_“You might ask…should we fear joining the Dominion? And I answer you…Not in the least. We should embrace the opportunity. The Dominion recognizes us for what we are…the true leaders of the Alpha Quadrant.”_

Julian and Elim managed to talk amongst themselves while watching the broadcast.

“So, this is all just a stunt to restore Cardassia to its former glory?”

“It’s a stunt to make the common people feel like Guls again. Bajor did that for many of them.”

Dukat continued…

_“And now that we are joined together, equal partners in all endeavors, the only people with anything to fear…will be our enemies.”_

Elim snarled in disgust. “Equal partners? Has he finally gone insane?!”

“I think he’s been insane for many years.”

And continued…

_“My oldest son’s birthday is in five days. To him and to Cardassians everywhere, I make the following pledge. By the time his birthday dawns, there will not be a single Klingon alive in Cardassian territory…or a single Maquis colony left inside our borders.”_

“Elim, do you know how many Klingons and Maquis there currently are in Cardassian space?”

“Not exactly, but there have to be at least tens of millions.”

And finally concluded…

_“Cardassia will be made whole. All that we have lost will be ours again. And anyone who stands in our way will be destroyed. This I vow with my life’s blood. For my son…for all our sons!”_

“Elim…”

“The bastard...He'll get us all killed."

"Let's focus on getting out of here. We can't save Cardassia from the inside of a prison on an asteroid in the middle of nowhere."

Shortly after the broadcast concluded, Elim set to work on the transmitter. Julian stayed right outside the hidden passage, ready to get Elim out at the first sign of trouble. He was careful to make sure that the other prisoners didn’t realize that he was doing it. Elim wouldn’t want all these people to learn about his claustrophobia, a weakness an enemy could easily exploit, and one that he didn’t want to admit to. The Cardassian response to fear, with the exception of xenophobia, was to deny it. Julian wasn’t sure how Romulans, who destroyed any perceived weakness within their ranks, and Klingons, who valued courage in battle to a suicidal degree, would react to finding out that they were depending on someone with a crippling phobia.

“Elim? How’s it coming?”

From way back in the crawlspace, a voice echoed.

“I only wish that I was still in the Obsidian Order. This would make a wonderful interrogation chamber. Tight quarters, no air, bad lighting, random electric shocks. It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“If you’d like, I’d happily trade places with you.”

“I’d love to. If you gave me a crash course in Cardassian field engineering, I’d probably be ready to take over from you in…five or six weeks.”

Actually, with his enhancements, it’d be closer to five or six days, but Julian had a feeling that they didn’t have that much time.

T’Pella, who was keeping watch, sounded the alarm that Ikat’ika, a leader of the local Jem’Hadar, was coming in. He was hoping to challenge the newest Klingon. Worf, said Klingon, had no objections. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that the crawlspace had to be covered up until he left. Elim would have to be sealed into the wall for a few minutes.

“Sorry. Try to stay quiet.”

One of the other guards who came with Ikat’ika stayed in front of the door to the barracks to watch the fight. It took an absurdly long time for him to leave to get a closer look. The second T’Pella sounded the all-clear, Julian helped Elim out of the wall. He looked terrible, trying to suppress his trembling.

“That…was thoroughly unpleasant.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. It’s just…hotter in there than I thought. I got little lightheaded. Give me a minute and I’ll go back in.”

“You need more than a minute. Your pulse is racing. Maybe you should wait until tomorrow.”

“Do you want to get off this hellhole or not?”

“Of course I do. But, I don’t want to risk being trapped here alone again because the only one who can save us pushed himself too hard.”

“I highly doubt that my condition is fatal.”

“Rest for five minutes. And from now on you take a fifteen minute break every hour. Doctor’s orders.”

Elim agreed to Julian’s terms. If being a concerned partner didn’t work, appealing to his authority as a doctor did.

…

Ziyal was alone, watching the wormhole from the Promenade. She knew she didn’t have to be alone, but she’d pushed everyone away. Jake didn’t know what it was like to have someone like Dukat for a father. Jake’s father was perfect. Mursa had a perfect father, too. She didn’t want to talk to anyone with a perfect father or the perfect fathers of any of those people. They wouldn’t understand.

“The view’s even better from Upper Pylon Two.”

Nerys. Ziyal knew nothing about Nerys’ father. Maybe she could talk to her. Nerys did seem to know Dukat pretty well.

“I keep hoping that Garak’s runabout will come through and everything will be alright again.”

“Maybe it will.”

Silence.

“I heard that you had a fight with your father.”

“I used to think my father was a hero. That when he did something bad, he had a good reason.”

He’d made the Bajoran Resistance sound so mean! They once blew up the house of a Gul and killed his entire family, even the children. To them, they were all guilty just by being on Bajor, even though not all of them were there by choice. Of course her father had had to kill them. They were targeting civilians.

But now…

“Everyone has their reasons. That’s what’s so frightening. People can find a way to justify any action, no matter how evil.”

“Do you think my father is evil?”

“I think you can’t judge people by what they think or say…only by what they do.”

Ziyal understood. But, if she was the daughter of an evil man, would other people, both Cardassians and Bajorans who didn’t bother to get to know her, see her as evil too?

…

Julian hated to have to worry about anything other than Elim, but duty called. Worf had fought and killed five Jem’Hadar, but despite the many victories, he’d taken several nasty hits along the way.

“You’ve got three broken ribs…maybe four.”

“They will heal.”

“Not if you keep fighting they won’t. You’re lucky you didn’t puncture a lung!”

“I will fight.”

Martok agreed.

“It is the only honorable thing to do.”

Julian was starting to get a little tired of the determination of the men around him to injure themselves in the name of their cultural pride.

…

It was hot and dark. Garak had spent years longing to be in a place that wasn’t too cold or too bright and this was what’d come of it. To make matters worse, his only source of light was flickering, threatening to go out.

“I’m sorry. That’s absolutely unacceptable. I’m under enough strain as it is. I can’t have you quitting on me.”

Talking to the light achieved nothing, not like he’d expected otherwise. Talking. He had to keep talking. Talking to himself. He wouldn’t be alone in the dark.

“Get a hold of yourself, Garak. After all, you haven’t had one of these attacks in years. Yes, this is a tight enclosed space. Yes, there’s not a lot of room to move. But a disciplined mind doesn’t allow itself to be sidetracked by niggling psychological disorders like claustrophobia.”

It’s what Tain had said when he came back from that terrible mission on Tzenketh. Cardassians were superior because of their disciplined minds. Not even Vulcans had their level of control. A disciplined mind can decide not to feel fear that gets in the way of duty.

“Besides, this isn’t like Tzenketh. These walls won’t collapse around you. There’s plenty of air. You have friends close by. You have nothing to be concerned about.”

It wasn’t helping. Julian had told Garak that he had a soothing voice and just hearing him talk made him feel better when he was anxious, but Garak had no idea why. 

“Focus on the job. You’re the only one who can contact the runabout. People are depending on you. Julian is depending on you. You promised Ziyal that you’d come back, and that young lady has had quite enough disappointments in her life without you adding to them. So control yourself! You’re stronger than this.”

His was the duty of the Cardassian soldier of a repetitive epic. They always claimed it was about serving the state, but the best ones always mentioned men with families. The fourth generation of The Never-Ending Sacrifice told the story of a man in battle. He had to avenge the death of his elderly father. He had to protect his wife, a doctor on the battlefield. He had to make it home to his children, to be there for his eldest daughter’s wedding day. He promised her he’d be back in time. It was strange how much of Garak’s life aligned with the story, but these were classical Cardassian archetypes seen everywhere. So many epics had these same characters. Being the hero of an epic should’ve given Garak a sense of pride. It didn’t.

“A disciplined mind…”

A buzzing sound. Pitch black darkness. Mayhem. No light. No air. No space. Electrified walls everywhere. Tzenketh. Walls falling. A closet in a study. Uncle Enabran sitting at his desk outside, pretending not to hear him scream. No way out. Loud banging. No way out. No way out. No way out.

“Elim?”

His mate couldn’t rely on him. He was a failure. No way out. No way out. No way out.

“Elim.”

No way out.

“Elim!”

Something touched him in the darkness. He wanted to scream. He could only gasp. The air he tasted was an echo of his own scent mixed with something…warm, for lack of a better word. The warmth was scared, echoing his fear. That was too important to ignore. His eyes adjusted to the darkness. Julian. His Julian. Holding his hand.

“The light…the light went out.”

“I know. Come on. I think you can take your break a little early.”

Julian led him into the light. Someone had lifted away the rubble of Tzenketh. Someone had found Uncle Enabran’s keys and was letting him out of the closet early. It was his turn to be saved, to be protected.

They’d fight their next battle together.


	13. Out of the Dungeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak and Julian make their great escape and Ziyal wonders where she fits in to all of this.

“He suffers from acute claustrophobia. It’s a wonder he lasted as long as he did.”

“Then one of us will have to finish reconfiguring the transmitter.”

Worf accepted the circumstances immediately. If Elim was too severely claustrophobic, someone else would have take over. But, Julian knew it couldn’t be that simple.

“And who, would you suggest, could do that?”

Silence.

“Exactly.”

Martok, a Klingon without the exposure to Federation values that Worf had, also seemed to be sympathetic to Elim’s plight. Did Klingons actually understand anxiety disorders as something other than weakness?

“Unfortunately, if Garak can’t finish re-aligning the transmitter, we’re not going anywhere.”

Julian had been able to teach himself a bit of engineering before. He was seriously beginning to consider going in and trying to finish the job by himself. Perhaps he could figure it out and spare Elim the pain of fighting against his claustrophobia and post-traumatic stress. But, when he moved towards the crawlspace, Elim snapped out of the unresponsive state he’d been in since Julian had pulled him out.

“Don’t.”

“Elim, if you can’t do it, someone has to try. I may not be an engineer, but I’ve spent more time around one than Worf and Martok have.”

“Even if you could figure out the technology, I can’t let you do this. Those random electric shocks I mentioned would hurt you more than they hurt me. I won’t let you hurt yourself. I won’t let you suffer through something that I’m too cowardly to face.”

“You’re not a coward. We all have things that we simply can’t face. Everyone’s afraid of something. I might be alright with small crawlspaces, but I can’t stand being tied down or restrained.”

“Did they restrain you on Adigeon Prime?”

“They had too. I kept fighting them.”

“And my father had to lock me in that closet.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“And your parents didn’t have to send you to that hospital where you fought and had to be restrained.”

“And now look at what they’ve made us into.”

“I’d like to think we’re more than what we were programmed to be.”

“I’d like to think so, too. But, this is one case where I can’t be that optimistic.”

…

“Seven battles and seven victories. Could any hero of legend have done as well?”

Though facing the wall, Garak could feel Julian leave his side for the first time in hours. Worf’s need was greater. Garak just passively listened to the conversation.

“Heroes of legend do not ache this much.”

“Your Federation friends have taught you modesty. But this is no time for modesty. When we return to the Klingon Empire, I will seek out Keedera himself and tell him your glorious tale, and he will write a song worthy of you.”

“Make sure to send me a copy.”

“I’ll do better than that. I’ll make sure Keedera mentions you: the healer who bound the warrior’s wounds so he could fight again.”

“Right now, the only part of that song I want to hear is the verse that tells of our escape. What good is defeating every Jem’Hadar soldier in this compound if it doesn’t bring us any closer to freedom?”

“We have to come up with a new escape plan.”

Julian had his hands full at the moment and Garak didn’t want the burden of their escape to fall on him as well. He also couldn’t burden the injured Worf. He didn’t know much about Martok, but the General’s job was to support his men, the other Klingons. As for the others, he didn’t know them. He couldn’t trust the Romulans or the Breen. No, this was something he had to do.

“That won’t be necessary. Our original plan will work. I just have to finish what I started. After all, a verse about the Cardassian who panicked in the face of danger would ruin General Martok’s song.”

“And that would be unfortunate.” Martok agreed.

Garak expected Julian to protest, but he didn’t. He must’ve realized how desperate their situation was.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me…My dungeon awaits.”

As he crawled back into his personal hell, Garak heard the Klingons speak to one another.

“There is no greater enemy than one’s own fears.”

“It takes a brave man to face them.”

…

Ziyal continued to spend time alone, watching the stars and waiting for Garak. She heard that her father planned to attack the station and capture it for the Dominion. If he was in control of the station, which is probably what he joined the Dominion to gain, Garak would be killed. But, there was nothing she could do.

Despite not actually being inside Quark’s Bar, Quark brought Ziyal’s food out to her personally. It was still a service she was paying for, but an unexpected one.

“Your asparagus with yamok sauce. The last of my fresh asparagus, I might add. Not that I’ll need to stock it anymore. Somehow, I get the feeling there won’t be much of a demand for Human food once the Jem’Hadar are finished with this place.”

“Aren’t you being a little pessimistic?”

Quark was already assuming that the Dominion would take the station. Was it good business to prepare for only one of many potential outcomes?

“Am I? The Jem’Hadar don’t eat, don’t drink, and they don’t have sex. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the Founders don’t eat, don’t drink, and they don’t have sex either. Which, between you and me, makes my financial future less than promising.”

He seemed to forget that there would also be Cardassians on the station if it fell and he’d made good money off of them the last time they were there. Ziyal could’ve easily pointed that out, but she decided to mess with him a little instead.

“It might not be so bad. For all we know, the Vorta could be gluttonous, alcoholic sex maniacs.”

Ziyal highly doubted that. Though, as the diplomats who’d want to fit in with whomever they were meeting with, they were probably capable of eating, drinking, and having sex, most likely more for business than for pleasure.

Quark didn’t notice that Ziyal was being sarcastic.

“I never thought of that. I wonder what their favorite food is?”

Ziyal wondered why she bothered with Quark at all. She didn’t really want to talk to anyone. She was surprised that she still had an appetite. It was interesting to combine foods from the different cultures on the station. Nerys had introduced her to mainly Bajoran foods and she liked most of them, but she liked Cardassian cuisine slightly better. Her favorite, surprisingly, was Human. Earth was very diverse, so Human food wasn’t a singular thing. The replicators were full of all sorts of options, but Captain Sisko often made things that weren’t in the replicator. His father owned a restaurant and had taught him all sorts of recipes.

The idea to combine asparagus with yamok sauce actually came from Garak. Julian had been insisting that he needed to eat more vegetables and Garak didn’t want any Cardassian vegetables, so Julian had him try Human ones. Asparagus was apparently a favorite of his, though he didn’t like it plain. There were lots of different sauces that went well with asparagus. Garak, wanting something familiar alone with the asparagus, had asked to try it with yamok sauce. It was a surprisingly good combination. The word got out and Quark added it to his menu.

Nobody expected anything from Earth to go that well with anything Cardassian, but Garak and Julian themselves had already proved that that could happen.

…

As Julian guarded the hidden entrance to the crawlspace, he would’ve been praying, if he was the praying type. He participated in Bajoran rituals on the station for the sake of politeness and respect, but that was it. Because Earth had so many different religious traditions, and Starfleet wanted to present a united image of Earth, religious activities were rare. They weren’t banned, but they were discouraged. When Julian had told Elim about this, he accused Humans of hypocrisy. They called Cardassian bans on all religious practices cruel, but they had a soft ban on religion themselves.

Remembering these sorts of arguments served as a good distraction from worrying about Elim. It was a distraction he couldn’t afford and, as it turned out, couldn’t last. T’Pella warned of approaching Jem’Hadar and he had to focus on getting rid of them. With the Cardassian prisoners gone and the Klingon prisoners fighting, all that remained were Julian, the two Romulans, and the Breen, who spoke no Standard and had no translator.

The Jem’Hadar stormed in and seemed to be aware that Julian was in charge at the moment, turning to him to ask their questions.

“The Cardassian. Where is he?”

“Outside, I suppose.”

The Jem’Hadar struck Julian with his phaser rifle and knocked him to the ground.

“He’s not outside.”

“What do you want with him?”

“He is to be put to death.”

Damn it. Did Dukat ask for Elim’s execution? But, before Julian could respond to this information, there was more bad news. The other Jem’Hadar found the tool that the prisoners had been using to open and close the crawlspace. He gave it to the officer standing over Julian who kneeled in front of him to hold the thing in his face.

“Now, if you wish to live, explain this.”

“Why do you need to know?”

“What is this?”

“Why do you think I know?”

“I ask you for the last time, what is this?”

Julian could see from the corner of his eye that the other soldiers had found the entrance to the crawlspace. He glanced around the room, silently pleading for someone to help him while he stalled for time.

“It’s either a self-sealing stem bolt or a reverse ratcheting router. I’m not sure which.”

He wondered if the Jem’Hadar knew that he’d made up both of those phrases on the spot. Either way, he knew there was a good chance that he was about to be shot and killed. He hoped that Elim would forgive him.

But, Julian didn’t need to worry. Errok, the Romulan who didn’t like him, decided to run and block the crawlspace. The Jem’Hadar turned and shot him instead, disintegrating him on the spot. Julian didn’t have time to decide whether he was relieved or horrified before the phaser rifle was turned on T’Pella.

“She’s next.”

So, they’d kill every other person in the room until he cooperated. Did they know that that would be more effective than threatening his own life? 

The second of the Jem’Hadar took the tool from his superior. He’d figured out that it opened the crawlspace. Said superior, and a third officer, pointed their rifles at Julian and T’Pella. But, they were watching the crawlspace, not their prisoners. The Jem’Hadar at the crawlspace couldn’t see inside. Elim must have turned the light off.

Help came from an unexpected source. The Breen snuck up on the distracted superior officer, grabbing his phaser pistol, a second weapon, off of him and fired. They got in a shoot out with the officer who’d just crawled out of the wall while T’Pella struck and disarmed the third Jem’Hadar. The battle between Jem’Hadar and Breen ended in a mutual kill. Julian grabbed the sharp metal tool off of the floor and lunged at the one remaining Jem’Hadar, stabbing him to death. Julian hated killing up close like that even more than he hated killing in general, but he did what needed to be done. 

T’Pella didn’t seem quite as surprised by the turn of events as Julian had been.

“My people have a saying. Never turn your back on a Breen.”

Since one of the Jem’Hadar hadn’t been disintegrated, his weapons were still there for the taking. Julian took his phaser pistol. It would be easier to conceal and run around with a smaller weapon.

“Julian, what’s going on out there? I’m trying to work in here and the noise is quite distracting.” Elim called out from inside the wall.

“How many circuits do you have left?”

“Three.”

“Work fast. Pretty soon we’re going to be up to our necks in Jem’Hadar.”

Elim did work fast. Within seconds, Julian, Worf, Martok, and T’Pella were all safe in the runabout. Elim was already piloting the thing away from the compound.

“Elim! Are you-“

“-I’m fine. I believe Worf needs your attention more than I do.”

“Alright. Take us out of here at maximum warp.”

“Yes, sir.”

It only took a few hours to return safely to the station. Julian’s top priority had to be Worf, who’d been badly beaten in his last fight. He took him to the infirmary and tried not to be disappointed when Elim went off in a different direction.

…

Ziyal was starting to fall asleep at her table when she heard someone call her name.

“Ziyal?”

Even half-asleep, she knew who it was.

“Garak!”

She ran to him and threw her arms around him. He somewhat awkwardly returned the embrace.

“I told you I’d be back.”

She kissed him on the cheek, a gesture of affection she’d seen Humans do.

“I never doubted it.”

He didn’t react to the kiss, meaning that he probably hadn’t taken it the wrong way. He just held her, letting her snuggle against him.

“Now, Julian’s probably starting to feel abandoned right about now.”

Ziyal knew she’d always be second best. She sighed and pulled away from Garak. To her surprise, he pulled her back.

“Let’s go see him together.”

Or maybe not. Ziyal wondered if this moment was the formation of a new family of three. It was a proper continuation of her childhood: living on the station with two loving parents. It was what her teenage years should’ve been like. It was a dream come true.


	14. Getting Caught Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sort of transitional chapter in three parts.
> 
> 1\. 14 chapters into an E-rated fic, there's finally smut.
> 
> 2\. An episode we skipped over is summarized and two people are found unexpectedly in Odo's cells.
> 
> 3\. Julian spends some time with Miles until they're interrupted by another guest.

“God! Elim, I missed you so much!”

Julian and Elim finally had some time alone together. So far, they’d spent that time lying in bed, kissing and cuddling. But, the kisses were becoming more passionate, the cuddling evolving into strong caresses.

“Julian, show me exactly where that duxtatsi bit you.”

“You want to bite me in the exact same place, don’t you?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.”

Julian took Elim’s hand and placed it on the spot on his neck where Rogesh had bitten him. Elim nipped gently, not breaking the skin as the other Cardassian, the “duxtatsi” or “inferior man” as Elim liked to call him, had. Julian moaned and pinched Elim’s neck ridges. He was given the reward of an opportunity to bite back, sinking his teeth hard into Elim’s kinat’hU. His lover hissed in pleasure and turned them over so that Julian was on top.

“Those men would never have you like this, would they?”

“Elim, I don’t care about Rogesh and Emok! That’s all over and done with. You’re acting like you’re jealous of them.”

“I’m only jealous that you and Martok got to beat them and I didn’t.”

“Then let’s not talk about that now.”

“I’m afraid it’s consumed my thoughts, as of late.”

“Would it help if I provided a distraction?”

“It would depend upon the nature of the distraction.”

“Perhaps you could join me in the shower. I desperately need one.”

“Even if it’s with you, I don’t think I want to be crammed into the tiny shower cubicle with another person, if you don’t mind. I’d be fine normally, of course, but the memory of that crawlspace is still fresh in my mind.”

“Alright then. Thank you for actually telling me. We both still need to shower, so we’ll have to be patient and take turns.”

Julian loved making Elim “patience has its rewards” Garak lose control. By the time they’d both finished showering, they’d both lost control, covering each other in kisses and bites. Julian ended up on top again, so they were just as they were before.

“So, how are we going to do this this time?”

“What do you want to do, Julian?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Then I want you inside me.”

Every other time Julian had topped, he’d been the one to ask. Elim had enjoyed being the receptive partner in the past, but it had never been his idea before. Julian realized that it was an extension of his fixation with Rogesh and Emok. It was unheard of for a Cardassian to let a non-Cardassian partner be anything but submissive to them in the bedroom. 

“Are you sure? If this is just about Rogesh and Emok again-“

“-I know that after something like that, you want to feel in control. Besides, I like seeing you in control. You command authority on this station while I’m but a humble tailor. I really do want you to do this, Julian. I’ll beg if you like.”

Julian didn’t need to hear any more. He thrust into Garak’s ajan, already slick for him.

“You don’t need to beg. You just need to let me work.”

“Yes, sir.”

As was often the case, Julian couldn’t stop talking, even in the middle of sex. His mind was always going and words just kept coming out no matter what he did. Still, he found himself gasping for breath as he talked.

“You know…Miles says…that he’s heard you…he’s heard you call me a ‘boy’…he thinks you do that too much…but…you call me ‘sir’ more often…”

“Both are applicable at times. Now, a bit less thrusting and a bit more grinding, if you please.”

“Yes, sir.”

“A glinn calling a lowly tailor ‘sir’? That’s unheard of!”

“Well…It’s a good thing…I’m not a glinn then…”

“You’re a lieutenant. That’s a glinn.”

“Whatever you want…Just don’t start calling me…Glinn Bashir while we’re in bed…Cardassian military terms…don’t suit me.”

“They suit you more than you think.”

“Am I like a glinn…or do you just…wanna be fucked by one?”

“I’ve had enough experience with Central Command for one lifetime.”

“Should I…even ask?”

“Not while you’re inside me”

“Unfortunately…I don’t think I’ll…be staying inside…for very much longer…”

Julian came the second after he said that. When he pulled out, Elim everted and Julian finished him off with his hand before collapsing onto the bed beside him.

“It’s so good to be home…”

…

Julian and Elim both took the next day off of work to relax and find out more about what happened while they were away. A lot had changed on Deep Space Nine. The O’Briens and Kira had had their baby, a boy named Kirayoshi, partially named for the woman who acted as his second mother. Julian found out when he went to see Miles, who hadn’t been to see him yet because he was busy with the new baby. 

Kelas had practically taken over the infirmary while Julian was gone. He’d apparently had to operate on Captain Sisko and saved his life when an enemy would’ve used the situation as a chance to end it. Julian gave him an official position in the infirmary, since it made no sense to have a good doctor on the station who wanted to work but couldn’t. Having an expert on Cardassian physiology around was also quite useful.

Elim had already known about Kirayoshi’s birth and Kelas saving Sisko, but something else had happened so recently that it took him by surprise. Odo had two very unexpected guests in his holding cells, one of whom was Mursa. 

Of course, Narin was in a panic, repeatedly insisting that his child was not a “delinquent” and that she was only trying to be helpful when she did the two things that landed her in that cell. One was an incident in which she’d decided to use the Changeling that’d attempted to impersonate Julian as target practice. The Changeling refused to provide any information on the Dominion and had attempted to escape, disguise itself as other people, and sabotage station equipment multiple times and Mursa seemed to think that if they couldn’t send it back to the Dominion and they couldn’t keep it in jail, they might as well kill their enemy, so she somehow snuck past Odo’s security, apparently using methods that Elim had told her about, and shot the prisoner while the Constable was away. Despite there being zero evidence to suggest it, Odo suspected that Quark was somehow in on it, but he always suspected that when someone committed a crime. Elim seemed to find this whole mess rather funny, though Julian, Narin, and Odo agreed that murder was no laughing matter. 

Mursa didn’t actually seem all that upset about being locked up. She’d made a new friend in the cell across from hers. Said friend was even more of a surprise. Iliana Ghemor was on the station. The other thing that Mursa had done to get arrested involved a confrontation between her and Kira. Mursa had decided to investigate a few murders as a way of killing time and stowed away on a runabout when Kira also decided to take matters into her own hands. It sounded like a complicated story, which Narin tried to explain in brief.

“Some of Kira’s old terrorist friends were being murdered by someone who kept sending her messages, apparently using her own voice. It turned out to be a combination of various voice files of Kira herself being edited together, along with a little help from someone who’d spent eleven years speaking in her voice. There was some sort of conspiracy between Cardassians who’d been injured or lost loved ones in the same bombing. Actually, as far as we can tell, there were only two people involved: a former servant Silaran Prin, who’d been disfigured in the bombing, and Iliana Ghemor, whose fiancee had been among those killed by the explosion. Having memories of being both the woman who planted the bomb and the woman who lost a loved one because of said bomb hasn’t been healthy for her. She still won’t tell anyone how she encountered Prin, or even how she left the hospital on Trapis IV, but his madness complimented hers and they killed five people before they were stopped.”

“How were they stopped?” Julian asked.

Elim had been on the station when the chaos happened. From the glare Odo gave him, Julian could tell he was in some way involved.

“The assassination of Gul Pirak. I was still in the Order back then, and Entek, one of my colleagues, was very invested in the story, abnormally so for yet another act of Bajoran terrorism. It was a regular occurrence, an occupational hazard for any Cardassian who stepped foot on Bajor. But, I suspected that Entek knew something about the bombing that the rest of us were unaware of. Shortly after the bombing, Entek was put in charge of training Iliana Ghemor, who joined the Order out of grief after the death of the man she loved. I had very little to do with her, but I’d heard about the deep cover mission she’d volunteered to undertake, posing as Kira Nerys. As far as I knew at the time, the mission went ahead as planned, but we later found out that that clearly wasn’t the case, since our Major Kira is completely Bajoran and always has been. After that incident, I started asking questions. It was Kelas who found out that Dukat had had the mission cancelled and hid Miss Ghemor away, but there were still some unanswered questions. Why did Entek falsely report the mission as a success? Last minute intervention from Central Command wouldn’t have been questioned. Instead, he fed the Order false information that we believed for a decade.”

“Elim, you still haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m getting there. A good story should be told properly. Anyway, I contacted Alon Ghemor and had him look into it. Trentin Fala, one of the Bajorans killed by the Prin/Ghemor conspiracy, was targeted due to passing information about flaws in Pirak’s security system on to the terrorists. The flaws that the terrorists exploited were not something that an experienced Cardassian Gul would’ve allowed. He would’ve made certain that his home and family were protected. Pirak was no fool. So, where did those flaws come from? Sabotage. Entek had been trying to recruit Miss Ghemor into the Order for years, but the young lady had no interest in that line of work. But, after her lover died in that bombing, she was very eager to run into Entek’s arms. Quite convenient for Entek, don’t you think? He knowingly allowed the bombing to happen, deliberately getting his own people killed, just to recruit one disinterested girl. Dukat found out and had him lie to the Order under blackmail. If it became known that Entek was partially responsible for the assassination of a Gul, he would’ve been executed as soon as the information went public. Dukat used this information to stop Ghemor’s mission and save Kira, but in such a way that nobody knew it’d happened. He kidnapped Ghemor to have a copy of Kira all to himself.”

“This still doesn’t explain anything.”

“All of this information is necessary to get to the point. When Kira’s old terrorist friends were being killed off, I was curious about who might be responsible. Of course, I was busy searching for you, so I wouldn’t have bothered, but Constable Odo seemed to believe that I might be helpful. That’s why I contacted Alon Ghemor. Meanwhile, Odo had put together a list of suspects that Kira stole to hunt them all down. Mursa has been spending a lot of time around Kira as of late and she figured out what she planned to do. She seemed to believe that I was the one to go to for help. I’d created my own list of suspects, having found out about Miss Ghemor leaving Trapis IV not long before the murders began. She most likely knew nothing of Entek’s role in the assassination. I wondered if learning that would convince her to stop focusing on the terrorists and turn the blame towards their enabler. I didn’t tell Mursa to sneak aboard Kira’s runabout to deliver the information personally, but that’s what she decided to do. Odo was a bit irritated that she was interfering in his investigation, but Kira killed Prin in self-defense and Mursa talked down Ghemor. She didn’t want to harm an innocent, so she had to stop and listen to what Mursa had to say. Odo insisted on arresting her and bringing her back to the station.”

“It’s a temporary security measure,” Odo explained, “We’ve tried to contact her father, but he’s fallen ill and can’t leave the hospital. With Cardassia joining the Dominion, and Alon Ghemor being on Cardassia, contacting him has become impossible. We’ve contacted the hospital she escaped from, who claim they’d allowed her more freedom to move about the planet and didn’t notice that she’d escaped, thinking she’d just settled down somewhere. Strange people, Trapisans. But, increased Dominion presence in the Alpha Quadrant has led to the Trapis system going into lockdown. No one is allowed in or out, so we can’t transfer Miss Ghemor back there either. So, for the time-being, I’m keeping her here, where she can’t harm anyone.”

Julian guessed that Odo had already forgotten about Federation rules that a person couldn’t be kept in a holding cell for longer than seventy-two hours. She should’ve been transferred to a Federation hospital. But, as a Cardassian, there was a good chance that nobody wanted to take her in and rules had been broken for non-Federation citizens before. Captain Sisko had planned to keep Elim in a holding cell for six months before the Trapisans volunteered to host him for a while.

What really mattered about all of this was that Iliana Ghemor was on the station and Mursa had apparently befriended her. The two talked casually about quite a few things. Ghemor seemed surprisingly indifferent to the fact that her new friend was only fourteen.

“The kid wanted to be an artist and now she wants to be a spy. She’s a lot like me, honestly, though she figured everything out earlier than I did. I should’ve been like her, really. If I’d just joined the Obsidian Order when Entek asked, Ataan wouldn’t have died.”

“She’s going through a guilty phase.” Mursa explained.

“If I’d married Ataan, I would never have volunteered for that mission. Nobody else was a close enough match. Nobody would’ve become Nerys. If I wasn’t Nerys, Dukat wouldn’t have cared about me. I was such a selfish child…Apparently no punishment was great enough.”

“Stop that, Iliana. It was all Dukat and Entek’s fault, not yours. You were good and Entek made you bad when he killed Ataan.”

Ghemor didn’t seem to be listening.

“Nerys…Why can’t I speak to Nerys? I have to tell her…somebody needs to tell her…”

“Tell her what?” Julian asked, “I’d be happy to pass along the message.”

“The Dominion…If Dukat wins…Dukat can’t win! Dukat has to die! Nerys will become like me…I know she will. He’ll want the real thing.”

“I understand. I’ll let her know, though she probably already does. She’s always hated Dukat, possibly just as much as you do.”

“She can’t possibly hate him as much as I do! She hasn’t seen what he’s really like!”

“She’s always known. She can tell. She’s always seen right through him.”

“But I want to be the one to kill him.”

…

After a long day of catching up on station events, Julian was exhausted. Not physically, but there was a sort of emotional exhaustion that made further work or real conversation impossible. While Elim continued to listen to Jadzia’s recap of Captain Sisko’s confrontation with the Maquis, Julian joined Miles at Quark’s for a round of darts. Time with Miles was uncomplicated. Julian loved how stimulating conversations with Elim were, but when he felt like this, his best friend’s simple, straightforward nature was refreshing.

Exhausted as he was, Julian decided to let Miles win for that evening. With his enhanced hand-eye coordination, the game was almost always completely up to him. He hated it. He wanted to play a real game without feeling like he was disrespecting his opponent. He wondered if Miles would hate him if he found out that his winning streak was fake. Of course he would. Any Human who knew what he was would hate him. Elim was a Cardassian, so maybe it was different for them, but he didn’t expect anyone else to want anything to do with him if he was outed as a fraud.

“Another game?”

“Maybe one. I promised Molly I’d so some coloring with her this evening. With all this attention focused on the baby, I don’t want her to start feeling like we’ve forgotten about her.”

Hearing Miles talk about parenting was interesting. He was so willing to join Molly in her children’s games. Julian’s parents never played with him. They supervised, making sure the toys were played with properly, but they never joined in. They were adults and Julian’s toys and games were for children. That was the end of that. Were Julian’s parents normal in that, or were most parents more like Miles? Julian still wasn’t sure.

“A father’s work is never done.”

“You said it. Oh, but it’s worth it. Someday you should give it a try.”

A vision of a little girl with Julian’s skin tone and Cardassian ridges appeared in Julian’s mind for a split second. 

“Me? No.”

“Why not? I bet you’d make a great father.”

“I’m not the ‘family’ type.”

It simply couldn’t happen. What genes would a child of his be inheriting anyway? He could adopt, but no matter what, the image of himself as a father didn’t feel right. He looked too much like his own.

“Doctor Bashir, I presume?”

A third person had joined the conversation. 

“That’s me.”

“I’m Louis Zimmerman, Director of Holographic Imaging and Programming at the Jupiter Research Station. I’m here to make you immortal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took an abnormally long time with this chapter and it's still mostly exposition. The next few chapters are going to be hard to write and I think I've just been procrastinating. But, the next chapter is around halfway done, so things should speed up soon.


	15. The Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian has to deal with several terrible people, including his own parents. Garak does his best to support his mate.
> 
> CW: Julian's shitty parents, autistic shutdown.

A holographic doctor modeled after him. Him of all people. Julian didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified. Captain Sisko seemed a bit skeptical of the whole thing, but they were going ahead with it.

The process of setting things up was long and detailed. Miles tagged along to make the whole thing a bit more fun. Julian would’ve preferred to have Elim with him, but Zimmerman didn’t want a “potential Cardassian spy” around the technology he was developing. This was a common Federation viewpoint, but it made Julian like him a lot less. The EMH holograms in operation were based on Zimmerman’s personality and Julian wondered what having him around all the time, in charge of caring for the sick, people at their most vulnerable, would actually be like and hoped that no one out there was in the process of finding out.

It began with a questionnaire, determined to know seemingly everything about him. It was starting to become a little uncomfortable.

“Compare and contrast your eating habits at age five with those at ages ten, fifteen, twenty, and twenty-five?”

Outside of the introduction of caffeine sources, Julian’s eating habits had barely changed throughout his life. In public places, he often ordered foods that seemed a little more “adult” and tried things from around the galaxy, but in private, he often replicated the same foods he would’ve chosen as a child, if he’d been allowed to. Elim had become aware of his habits and memorized his preferences. When he returned from his shift, Elim often had dinner ready and it was always something Julian liked after a stressful work day.

Elim had also noticed that Julian talked a lot and ate very little in the replimat, but he hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t the same at all about dinner. Maybe he had, but he hadn’t said anything. Julian preferred it that way.

The hologram had to come across as a real person with real likes, dislikes, and past experiences to call upon. Miles found the whole thing highly amusing.

“Think of it, Julian. If this works, you could irritate hundreds of people you’ve never even met.”

Miles never meant his insults as insults. The best thing to do was to go along with it.

“If I’m going to be truly annoying, I’ll have to get under their skin quickly.”

An honest answer would do that.

“At age five, I loved brussels sprouts.”

He still liked them, but not in public. When said they were his favorite as a child, people looked at him funny.

“That’s the spirit. I hate you already.”

Miles would’ve looked at him funny back then too. So would Zimmerman. He kept making sarcastic comments about Julian. Apparently, he was incapable of “looking like a doctor”. If that was true, then why was he selected for this program in the first place?

Julian only began to hate the man more when he found out that all his friends and coworkers were to be interviewed. He also mentioned family members. The last thing he wanted was his father’s opinion of him influencing how strangers would see him for centuries.

…

Garak didn’t have Julian’s permission to spy on Doctor Zimmerman’s interviews with his colleagues. Naturally, as his mate, Garak should’ve been included among the people interviewed, but he wasn’t. It seems that nobody wanted him to make it clear that his Julian was more than the annoyance people often described him as. Garak planted a monitoring device in the wardroom to find out exactly what damage was being done.

Captain Sisko seemed to see Julian as ambitious, as if his desire to help others was purely self-centered. The younger Sisko mentioned how talkative he was, which was apparently considered a negative trait by Humans. Kira seemed to agree with the Siskos, and Dax mentioned Julian’s early obsession with her, something he’d fortunately grown out of. 

Chief O’Brien was a surprise. Garak knew that the man delighted in insulting Julian, but it seemed like when Julian wasn’t around, he told a completely different story.

“He’s an extraordinary person. A real sense of honor and integrity…great sense of humor…warm and caring…you’re sure he’s not going to read this?”

At least one other person on the station seemed to care about his Julian. Garak had used to think of the Chief as a potential threat. Now he seemed like the only one who wasn’t. If only that fool Zimmerman had interviewed him or Kelas. If he’d only asked any of the station’s Cardassians.

Garak sat down with a PADD, reading a book that Julian had given him. It was a fairly good book with some qualities of a Cardassian enigma tale. But, he was interrupted when Julian came bursting in in a panic. Garak’s so’c burned with the taste of his fear.

“My parents are here.”

The Bashir parents were responsible for Julian’s genetic enhancements. He was afraid of other people finding out. But, though he didn’t say it, Garak knew it went deeper than that. These were people he’d been trying to forget and they’d come after to him, to a place where he thought he could escape them.

“They’ll hate you, too, Elim! They don’t like anyone outside the Federation. I’m going to their guest quarters for dinner tonight and I still haven’t told them! I’m sorry!

“It’s quite alright, my dear. I understand. I’m sure that I’ll be alright. You’ll be alright, too. I’ll be right here with you, so it won’t be two against one. You don’t have to face them alone this time.”

Julian hugged him, burying his face in his chest, as if trying to keep from looking at the world.

“Zimmerman…the bastard betrayed me! I told him not to call them and he did! I don’t even like him and I trusted him and I’m such an idiot!”

“You had no reason to believe that he’d go against your wishes. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. What’s done is done. Your parents are here. Now, what are we going to do about it?”

“I don’t know. We can’t kill anyone, so don’t even suggest it.”

“That wasn’t what I was planning at all. I’d like to meet your parents, actually. I’d like to see what we’re up against. As for Doctor Zimmerman, let’s wait and see what he does with whatever information your parents provide. In the mean time, stay away from him. I think his presence might be hazardous to your health.”

Garak joined Julian when he went to meet his parents for dinner. He almost looked forward to seeing how they’d react to their son dating a Cardassian, especially after Cardassia joined the Dominion. He hoped they’d antagonize him. He wanted to show Julian that Garak could keep himself and his mate safe in this situation.

The Bashir parents seemed fairly civil at first, proud of their son’s accomplishments, though they were most likely proud of themselves for programming his intelligence into him. They’d want to take credit for his achievements. When Garak introduced himself, Amsha, the mother, was fairly polite.

“Jules didn’t tell us about you. But, anyone who loves him as much as we do is welcome in our family. Isn’t that right, Richard?”

Richard, the father, was a little more like what Garak had expected.

“A Cardassian, huh? Jules, since when have you been interested in men of any sort?”

“Since…Since Elim, I suppose. If I was interested in men before, I probably just wasn’t aware of it. I still sometimes have difficulty understanding my own feelings.”

“Right. Are you sure he hasn’t done something to you?”

“Dad!”

Amsha called off yet another argument and suggested that they just go ahead and have dinner. Richard and Amsha both ordered the same thing from the replicator. Julian did the same, though Garak was almost positive that the dish they were eating was something Julian considered too spicy. He also ordered disgusting earl grey tea instead of his usual Tarkalean and he didn’t sweeten it as much as he usually did. Garak didn’t understand it personally, but he knew that Julian, though he liked the caffeine and general flavor of Tarkalean tea, he found all tea too bitter. Since caffeine is a naturally bitter substance, this made sense. Humans tended to have an extreme dislike for bitter flavors. Why was Julian now subjecting himself to this level of discomfort?

After several moments of silence, Amsha awkwardly tried to start a conversation.

“Captain Sisko seems like a very nice man, Jules.”

Garak decided to just listen quietly. This was going to be one of those Human conversations about nothing. Richard continued to demonstrate the rudeness he’d introduced himself with.

“Not like the captain of the transport that brought us here. I’ve never met a ruder, more abrasive man in my life. I tell you, when I used to run shuttles, I never would’ve tolerated that kind of behavior toward my passengers.”

“Dad, you’re talking to me, now. You were a third-class steward for all of six months.”

“That’s right, and I was required to have daily contact with the passengers. And you can bet that if I had even looked at them the wrong way, I would’ve been discharged on the spot!”

“I thought you were.”

“I resigned.”

If Richard Bashir wanted to see a ruder, more abrasive man than that captain, he could’ve found one in the mirror. He also seemed to be the sort of man who’d lie to the point of committing fraud if it made him look successful. 

Amsha changed the subject to Julian’s research. Richard was bitter that he wasn’t doing said research on Earth, still under his influence. The subject changed again to Richard’s interest in landscape architecture. Julian had also mentioned to Garak that his father had been a diplomat. It seemed that he drifted from one job to the next, moving his family along with him, never settling on anything, never finding success of his own, so he used his son’s accomplishments as something to brag about instead. Even if Julian had been a completely average child, Garak doubted the man would’ve accepted it. He needed more than that. He needed nothing less than Federation perfection.

Finally, the topic turned to Doctor Zimmerman’s desire to interview the Bashir parents. Julian made it clear that he was concerned that they might reveal something that could lead to his enhancements being uncovered.

“You don’t trust us?”

“He didn’t say that, Richard.”

“No, but that’s what he means. Isn’t it? You’re afraid we’re going to slip up…and here we are, already saying too much in front of your Cardassian boyfriend here!”

“He already knows, Dad.”

“You told a Cardassian spy our family secret?!”

“His father found out and I had to explain.”

“I’d sooner die than reveal what he told me, Mr. Bashir. Rest assured, your secret is safe with me.”

“Why should I take your word for it? Cardassians are the most unrepentant liars in the Alpha Quadrant. Jules, a man as bright as you should be able to see the perfectly obvious. You can trust your own parents, not…whatever he is!”

Julian stood up.

“This is exactly why I haven’t been home since I left the Academy!”

“Jules, please…” Amsha begged, but it was too late. Julian had already left the room. Richard seemed perfectly satisfied.

“Let him go. He can barely stand to be in the same room with us!”

Garak had to follow his Julian, who was most likely completely overwhelmed. But, he couldn’t resist saying something. He couldn’t let Richard have the last word.

“Well! I wonder why that might be?”

He didn’t bother to say “good evening”. Richard didn’t deserve politeness and as long as Amsha stood by him, neither did she, as far as Garak was concerned.

Garak found his Julian slumped down against a wall, his face in his hands.

“Let’s go home, dearest.”

“I hate this…”

“I know. So do I, if that’s any help. Now, let’s go back to our quarters and replicate some proper tea.”

Julian stood and took his hand. He kept himself together until they were safe inside their quarters. Then, he collapsed into bed, burying his face in the pillow. He wasn’t crying. He was silent and still. Garak recognized that he’d just shut down. He’d need some time to recover. Garak replicated some extra-sweet Tarkalean tea and placed it on the desk beside the bed. He’d want it when he was ready to face the world again. He fetched Kukalaka from his shelf and placed him on the pillow beside him. The bear helped in these situations. Now, there was nothing to do but wait.


	16. Playing God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian's parents say too much and Julian explains everything.
> 
> CW: Ableism, Adigeon Prime Flashbacks, The Bashir Parents Existing, Unsubtle Allegories

The next morning, things went from bad to worse. Chief O’Brien and Doctor Zimmerman decided to run some experiments with the Bashir hologram and the Bashir parents spoke to the hologram in surgery, thinking they were apologizing to Julian. Thinking they were alone with their son and suspecting nothing, they mentioned out loud that Julian was genetically enhanced. He'd had every reason not to trust their discretion. O’Brien had the decency to warn his friend about what’d been discovered.

“Julian? Perhaps we could speak privately?”

“About what?”

“Well, Doctor Zimmerman was testing the new holo and your parents walked into surgery to apologize over some quarrel. Zimmerman thought it would be a good test of the program’s ability to cope with an unexpected situation.”

“And you wouldn’t have come here if they hadn’t said anything they weren’t supposed to.”

“It’s why I wanted to speak privately. Do you want Garak to hear this?”

“They couldn’t have said anything that he doesn’t already know.”

“Alright…Well, they mentioned that you were genetically enhanced as a child.”

Julian froze. The chief took so long to get to the point that he must’ve known where this was all going, but now that it’d been said aloud, he had to face this new worst case scenario. O’Brien seemed to understand the weight of the situation and tried to be gentle about it.

“Look: I’m sorry about this. I wish it never happened, but it did and now we’ve got a problem.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Julian tried to turn away, but Garak stopped him.

“Julian, not talking about it isn’t going to make it go away. Chief, how did Doctor Zimmerman react to this revelation?”

“He just said that he’d have to report it. He’s about to file a report saying that Doctor Bashir is not suitable for computer modeling because of his suspected ‘genetically enhanced’ background. Julian, do you know what’s going to happen when that report gets back to Starfleet Medical?”

“They’ll start a formal investigation which will lead to my eventual dismissal from the service.”

“Then it’s true? You’re…”

The taboo was so strong that the chief clearly didn’t want to believe that his best friend could be genetically enhanced. Julian clearly understood.

“The word you’re looking for is, ‘unnatural.’ Meaning, ‘not from nature’. ‘Freak’ or ‘monster’ would also be acceptable.”

…

Elim tried to argue with him, but Julian wouldn’t let him. Cardassians didn’t believe in freaks and monsters like Humans did. But, Miles understood. He had to know the truth. Perhaps there was some small chance that he might be forgiven.

“I was six. Small for my age. A bit awkward physically. And…not very bright. In the first grade, while the other children were learning how to read and write and use a computer…I was still trying to tell a dog from a cat and a tree from a house.”

…

_London, 2347:_

_“Julian, focus. Look at the cards. What is this animal called?”_

_“How should I know? I’ve never met him, and animals can’t talk anyway so it’s not like I can ask.”_

_“That’s not funny.”_

_“I wasn’t joking.”_

_“One of these pictures is a picture of a dog and the other is a picture of a cat. Can you point to the dog?”_

_“Hmm…They don’t look all that different.”_

_“Alright, let’s look at these pictures.”_

_“You’re not looking.”_

_“What?”_

_“You said ‘let us look’, but you’re looking at me.”_

_“Julian, if you can’t focus, we’ll never get anywhere.”_

_“I can’t! It’s too bright in here!”_

_“Julian! Is this a picture of a tree or a house?”_

_“I don’t know! I’m tired!”_

_“No, you’re not. You’re just trying to get out of doing your work.”_

_“No, I’m not!”_

_“No more excuses! This is exactly why you’re behind.”_

…

“I didn’t really understand what was happening. I knew that I wasn’t doing as well as my classmates. There were so many concepts they took for granted that I couldn’t begin to master…but I didn’t know why. All I knew was that I was… a great disappointment to my parents.”

…

_London, 2347:_

_“I don’t know why we even bother with these conferences. It’s always the same. He never improves. I could’ve told them that! It’s not like he’s ever any better at home!”_

_“Mr. Bashir, I really think Jules should be tested. He clearly has some kind of learning disability.”_

_“Are you implying that there’s something wrong with my son?”_

_“Not at all!”_

_“What else is a disability? What else do you call that?”_

_“Mr. Bashir, I know it’s upsetting to hear, but we can’t ignore this. Jules is failing and he needs help.”_

_“Alright. If there’s something wrong with him, how do we fix it?”_

_“We can’t. It’s most likely some sort of genetic disorder and you can’t just rewrite someone’s DNA.”_

_“So now it’s my DNA. Are you saying it’s my fault?!”_

_“This isn’t anyone’s fault, Mr. Bashir. It just is the way it is.”_

…

“I’m not sure when they made the decision, but just before my seventh birthday, we left Earth for Adigeon Prime.”

…

_London, 2348:_

_“Son, we’re going on a vacation.”_

_“We’re going on a vacation! We’re going on a vacation! We’re going on a vacation!”_

_“You sound like a corrupted audio file. Calm down.”_

…

“At first, I remember being excited at seeing all the aliens in the hospital. But then they gave me a room…and started the treatments…and my entire world began to change…”

…

_Adigeon Prime: 2348_

_“It’s time, Julian.”_

_“No! Not again! I don’t wanna go in there! It hurts!”_

_“If you don’t get your treatments, you’ll never get any better.”_

_“But I’m not sick!”_

_“You might not feel sick, but you have a disease in your mind, Julian. That disease is making your brain grow too slowly. The treatments are just speeding things up.”_

_“It doesn’t need speeding up anymore! It’s all going too fast!”_

_“You’ll get used to it, eventually. This is what normal, healthy people are like. Everyone sees and hears and thinks a lot of things throughout the day, but normal people can manage that. We’re trying to help you. But, in order to help you, you’ll have to help us. Be patient. Keep working. Now, let’s go…”_

…

“The treatments? Some kind of DNA recoding?”

Miles’ question snapped Julian out of his trance. All the memories were coming back and now all he could think of was the treatments: The needles, the big machines, the surgeries, the hours in front of screens answering questions, being tested over and over, his mind being sped up too the point that he couldn’t tell people what was going through his mind, because it was all going too fast…

“The technical term is ‘accelerated critical neural pathway formation’. Over the course of the next two months, my genetic structure was manipulated to accelerate the growth of neuronal networks in my cerebral cortex. A new Julian Bashir was born.”

Growing faster…too fast…he wasn’t meant to be this way, like twisting a limb in a direction it wasn’t meant to be bent.

“In what ways did they…change you?”

“My mental abilities were the top priority of course. My IQ jumped five points a day for over two weeks. That was followed by improvements in my hand-eye coordination, reflexes, vision, stamina, height, weight…”

It went beyond the cerebral cortex. Cognitive functions were powered up, some of which he believed weren’t broken or delayed before. His motor skills completely changed so he wasn’t awkward anymore. Enhanced stamina led to enhanced strength. Strangely, his senses, other than vision, weren’t enhanced. They just acted like they were anyway.

When the acceleration was complete, it changed how fast he learned, but not what he knew. The doctors taught him all sorts of new tricks to impress his father. This meant hours of studying and therapy and exercises that were nearly as painful as the treatments themselves.

…

_Adigeon Prime, 2348:_

_“Stop complaining. This is easy. You know, before they invented the treatments you got, these exercises were all there were for children like you. They didn’t give them anything to help them. They just had to do the same things over and over until they learned, and many of them never did. Is that what you want, Julian? Do you want to be eighteen years old and still not know how to write or draw? If you work hard now, you’ll grow out of all the things you find difficult. Now, let’s go over the flashcards one more time. If you get them all right, you can have a piece of candy, okay?”_

…

“In the end, everything but my name was altered in some way.”

And then he did the rest himself.

“When we returned to Earth, we moved to a different city and I was enrolled in a new school using falsified records my parents obtained somewhere. And, instead of being the slowest learner, I was the star pupil.”

“And no one ever suspected.”

“There’s no stigma attached to success, Chief. After the…treatments, I never looked back.”

There was no way to look back. He couldn’t remember thinking like his old self. Any story about him that happened before the enhancements felt like it was about someone else. He could remember the events, and the feelings, but none of it seemed real. But, then again, neither was he.

“The truth is…I’m a fraud.”

Elim hadn’t known all the details, but he’d known enough of them that he hadn’t said anything while Julian told his story. Chief O’Brien, the one who didn’t know, was allowed to speak first.

“You’re not a fraud. I don’t care what…enhancements your parents may have had done. Genetic recoding can’t give you ambition or a personality or compassion or any of the things that make a person truly Human.”

“Starfleet Medical won’t see it that way. DNA resequencing for any reason other than serious birth defects is illegal. Any genetically enhanced Human is barred from serving in Starfleet or practicing medicine.”

As far as Julian knew, people like him were legally banned from doing anything. 

“I doubt there’s been a case dealing with this sort of thing in a hundred years. You can’t be sure how they’re going to react.”

“Oh, I’m sure, When the truth come’s out…I’m out of service. It’s that simple.”

“There must be something we can do. We can’t just give up.”

“There is one thing I can do. I can resign before Doctor Zimmerman files his report.”

“Julian…”

“It’s over, Miles. I always knew this could happen…now it has.”

It was common knowledge that those who’d been genetically resequenced in the past, resequenced with the same techniques that had been used on Julian, went mad with power. They were designed to be better than everyone at everything and they knew it. They took over the world. Julian wondered why he didn’t feel like he was better than anyone else or why he didn’t want to take over the world. Miles said that genetic recoding couldn’t give a person ambition, but the laws against were made entirely because of the ambition recoding gave people like Khan Noonien Singh. There was no way that hundreds of years of data could be wrong. Julian had been called smug and arrogant many times before. He acted like he was better than everyone else. He was seen as ambitious as well. He was no different than the rest of them. He was a better faker.

Julian didn’t want to be a faker anymore.

“If you don’t mind…I’d like to be alone.”

Miles left. Elim didn’t. Considering that these were his quarters too, it made sense that he wouldn’t want to leave them. Julian sat down on the sofa and buried his face in his hands. Elim sat down next to him.

“It’s not your fault, you know.”

“What? What’s not my fault?”

“The enhancements. You clearly loathe the idea as much as the rest of the Federation. As a young child, a crime was committed against you and now you seem almost eager to take the fall for it.”

“I’m tired of lying. I’m not the lying type.”

“I know. You only tell lies out of necessity, just like we all do.”

“It wasn’t necessary for me to join Starfleet. It wasn’t necessary for me to become a doctor.”

“Weren’t those also your father’s decisions?”

“He didn’t want me to join Starfleet. He wanted me to be successful on Earth.”

“Where he could look over your shoulder the entire time. Where he could shape your life into whatever best suited his ego. Out here, he couldn’t reach you. He couldn’t comment on the decisions you made.”

“I was safe here.”

“In a place this chaotic?”

“When I’m in the infirmary, I’m in control. When I’m with you, I can be out of control and know that I’ll still be safe. I can even enjoy it. If I have my career and I have you, I’m safe.”

“And even if you lose your career, I’m not going anywhere.”

“If I lose my career, I’ll be leaving the station.”

“Then so shall I. Where do you think we should go?”

“I don’t know. The Federation won’t want me around and Cardassia is obviously out of the question at the moment. Maybe the Klingons would take us in.”

“What about Trapis IV?”

“The system’s on lockdown, remember?”

“Perhaps we can ask counselor Razha to put a word in and get us through. The Trapisans apparently have something of a legacy of providing shelter to those that the Federation turned its back on. They could settle us down on Trapis V with the rest of them.”

“I don’t think a Human would be welcome on Trapis V. You know, when we talk about genetic enhancements, we often refer to messing with DNA as ‘playing god’. That was the same reason a Human captain gave for not helping those people, the ones that now live on Trapis V, cure a plague. When they discovered warp drive, they went straight for Earth. You know what we did then?”

“What?”

“We just passed the blame along to someone else. Multiple Federation worlds were involved in the decision. The Trapis system just happens to be right next to one of the guilty parties. Their sector borders the Denobula Sector. They stepped in, cured the plague themselves, and offered the only other Class M planet in the system as a new homeworld for the victims.”

“I thought you knew almost nothing about history.”

“When we were on Trapis IV, one of the friends I made went over the incident in great detail. It’s been almost two hundred years and they’re still angry.”

“If they’re willing to donate a planet to a group of strangers whom the Federation wronged, they’ll be more than willing to help the two of us.”

“So, it’s settled then. Trapis IV it is.”

“Before we start packing, though, I’d like to see your parents one more time.”

“So would I, actually.”

“Then let’s get it over with, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending of this chapter feels like a bit of a digression, but it's based on the theme of the Federation's fear of playing god. Messing with DNA and getting involved in the affairs of a less advanced planet are both placed in this vague category, so the story fits.
> 
> Also, yes, this is a reference to an episode of a different Trek series that I just used a planet of Mary Sues to give an alternate ending. Deal with it.


	17. Labors of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian tells his parents what he really thinks of them, but they defend themselves well enough for him to back down. Garak isn't quite convinced and puts a plan into action.
> 
> CW: Bashir Parents are still here, so there will be some ableist language, to some extent. Also, since, unlike the writers of the episode, I'm deliberately trying to make a point here, said point won't be exactly subtle. It's Star Trek. When is Star Trek ever subtle?

The Bashir parents acted exactly as Garak had suspected they would. Like with their last meeting, he mostly stayed quiet and let Julian fight his own battles. His father was, as expected, his primary opponent.

“Well, we’re not going to just take this lying down, that’s for sure!”

“We can’t fight this.”

“You better change that attitude right now if you want to hang on to your career.”

“Just like when I needed to change my attitude if I wanted to move on to the second grade with the rest of my class?”

“Jules, listen to your father. He’s trying to help.”

“I don’t want your help. I don’t want to drag this through the courts.”

“We’re a little beyond worrying about your ‘wants’, Jules.”

“Aren’t we always? I didn’t want to be left in a hospital on an alien planet for two months either, but why start caring now!”

“Jules! Stop whining and concentrate on coming up with a plan.”

“You’re still saying the things you’ve always said. I need to change my attitude, you’re just trying to help, it doesn’t matter what I want, stop whining and concentrate, and on and on. That never got you anywhere!”

“All those gifts, all those accomplishments and you still want to behave like a spoiled child!”

“So, you broke the law and made this mess in the first place and you want me to be grateful?”

“Stop this! Stop throwing my words back at me like you did when you were seventeen. You’d better grow up and start taking this seriously or you’re going to lose everything!”

“You mean _you’re_ going to lose everything. You’ll lose the one real accomplishment in your life: me. I’m your legacy, your proud gift to the world. Well, father, your gift is about to be revealed as a fraud, just like you!”

“I’m still your father, Jules! You will not speak to me like-“

“No. We’re not doing this anymore. Let’s face facts, shall we? You used to be my father. Now you’re my architect, the man who designed a better son to replace the defective one he was given. And, after everything you had done, I’m still not good enough for you, because you can’t control me.”

“We saved you from a lifetime of remedial education and underachievement and this is how you repay us!”

“I would’ve learned in time, even if it took a little bit longer. I may never have achieved greatness, never won any awards, but I’d live with it. But, you couldn’t have anything less than perfection, could you? You didn’t give me a chance.”

“You were falling behind!”

“I was six years old! You decided I was a failure in the first grade because I came in last in some imaginary competition!”

“You don’t understand, Jules. You never have.”

“No, you don’t understand. I stopped calling myself Jules when I was fifteen and I found out what you’d done to me. My name is Julian. Want to know why? Jules Bashir died in that hospital because you couldn’t live with the shame of having a son who didn’t measure up!”

Richard Bashir backed down in stunned silence. With nothing left to lose, Julian had decided to say what he’d always wanted to, just as Garak had predicted. It was good for him to say it aloud, to really face the damage that’d been done to him. His parents needed to hear it. They felt no guilt, no remorse for what they’d done. Even though Julian’s words upset them, Garak suspected that they still didn’t regret their decision. 

One Bashir being stunned into silence was enough to force the other out of the corner. Now, Amsha had something to say.

“That’s not true! You don’t know. You’ve never had a child. You don’t know what it’s like to watch your son…To watch him fall a little further behind every day…to know that he’s trying, but something’s holding him back. You don’t know what it’s like to stay up every night worrying that maybe it’s your fault. Maybe you did something wrong during the pregnancy, maybe you weren’t careful enough, or maybe there’s something wrong with you. Maybe you passed on a genetic defect without even knowing it.”

She believed what she was saying. This wasn’t a deliberate lie. But, not being a lie doesn’t make something true. It could also mean that someone is wrong.

“Julian, please. You can condemn us for what we did, but you have to understand that we didn’t do it because we were ashamed…but because you were our son and we loved you.”

Garak saw the tears in Julian’s eyes. He completely believed it. He wanted to forgive like he always did and it didn’t take much to convince him. He embraced his mother, sympathetic to her plight, to how much _he_ made _her_ suffer. Also worth noting was that Richard said nothing. He didn’t confirm what Amsha said. She spoke for both of them and he let her. It was Richard’s decision, not hers. She needed something to justify it. 

Garak decided not to disturb this moment of peace. He gave Julian a chance to leave the room on good terms. They’d discuss this later. Right now, Garak had a plan, not a plan to save Julian’s career, but a plan to make his parents understand what they’d put him through, and that it wasn’t necessary. Whatever Julian was struggling with as a child, it wasn’t necessary to alter his DNA. A few years ago, Garak would’ve agreed with Amsha, but experience had taught him that she was wrong. Perhaps she needed to share that experience.

“I thank you for allowing Julian to make his own choices. He’s grown tired of all the secrecy and dishonesty, the fear of being punished, the guilt over being a monster in his own eyes. We already have plans for where we’re going after leaving the station. If he wants you to hear them, he’ll tell you himself. Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Bashir.”

Garak went through the list of resources he’d need. He’d need to speak to Odo, then he’d need to see Narin. Next, he’d need to do a bit of research. But, before he did all of that, he had to make sure that Julian was okay. This was for him, after all.

…

Narin had convinced Mursa not to carry her phaser in the habitat ring when they were just going for a walk. But, there was still cause for some concern. The walk was turning into a run. She was excited to be there, skipping down the hall, hands waving like the wings of birds. She always looked so free during these moments. 

Mursa nearly crashed into a pair of Humans returning to their quarters. The man looked offended, the woman merely surprised. Mursa took a step back.

“Sorry about that! I wasn’t looking where I was going. I go through here all the time and it’s usually not any different since there aren’t many people in this hall. I think it’s the guest hall. Are you guests?”

“Yes.” said the woman, “Are your parents nearby?”

“Father’s right behind me.”

Of course, they weren’t expecting a Cardassian man to be the father of this Bajoran child. Mursa didn’t seem to understand their confusion at all. Narin was her father and that was just the way it was.

“What’s the matter? You have question faces, I think.”

“She’s adopted.” Narin explained. Mursa beamed with pride.

“His brother killed my first father and he saved me.”

Narin would never understand how she could bring that up so casually.

The couple was speechless. Reluctantly, the woman asked Mursa how old she was.

“Fourteen. Lots of people say I don’t sound that way, but I couldn’t talk until I was seven and a half so I guess I have a lot of catching up to do.”

“When our son, he’s all grown up now, was little, he was behind too.”

The couple looked at Narin and Mursa with pity in their eyes.

“Wait. Are you Julian’s parents? You look like him a bit and he told me that he was behind in school for a while.”

“Yes. You clearly know him very well.”

“Of course I do! He’s Father’s best friend’s boyfriend. I see him all the time. He’s really nice.”

Mursa was bouncing up and down and waving her hands again. Narin had figured out that she did that when something exciting happened or she was really happy. He wasn’t sure why she was so happy to be having this awkward conversation. It made sense that she wasn’t upset. She couldn’t see the expressions the couple were making. Well, she could literally see them, but she didn’t understand what they meant. But, the level of enthusiasm was a bit of a surprise.

“Well, I’m glad you get along so well. We’re still hoping that he might have children of his own someday.”

While the woman conversed with Mursa, the man stared at Narin in disbelief. Narin decided that he’d had enough of that and reacted.

“Mr. Bashir? That is your name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. That’s me.”

“You seem upset about something.”

“Well, I, uh, I don’t mean to be rude, but…Can we have a word in private?”

“I don’t see why not. Mursa, I’m going to talk to Mr. Bashir in his room. Stay in this hallway until I come back.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Father.”

When they’d settled down in the living area of the guest suite, Mr. Bashir wasted no time.

“How do you handle it?”

“Handle what?”

“Her. She says she’s fourteen and yet, she’s like…well, if Jules was like that at fourteen, I’d think I failed him as father.”

“Mursa is the way she is. She’s happy that way. I’ve spent years trying not to let her down. When the schools on Cardassia wouldn’t take her in, I taught her myself. She’s actually a pretty fast learner under the right circumstances. And even if it takes a while, she learns when it’s time. I can’t predict when that might be, but it doesn’t really matter.”

“But, doesn’t she fall behind the other children?”

“I’ve never paid much attention to them. That’s the business of the teachers and the parents of said children.”

“Perhaps things are different on Cardassia, but in the Federation, we strive for success. We set standards and goals and expect them to be met.”

“It’s the same on Cardassia. My way isn’t the Cardassian way, Mr. Bashir. My beliefs are my own. I believe in my daughter. Perhaps it’s just bias as a parent. Don’t you believe in your son?”

…

Mursa wasn’t sure why Father and Mr. Bashir were having such a long discussion. She was starting to get a little bit bored outside. She’d thought Mrs. Bashir seemed like a nice lady at first, but she asked a lot of stupid questions. She seemed to want Mursa to feel bad about things that nobody else cared about. Were all Human parents like that?

“Mursa, you really shouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You shouldn’t flap your hands.”

“Why not?”

“Well, haven’t you noticed that other children don’t do that?”

“So?”

“Do you want people to stare at you?”

“I don’t care.”

“What about your father, Mursa? Don’t you worry what people will think of him when they see his child acting that way?”

“He doesn’t care either. Besides, I’ve seen other children do it sometimes. Not all of them, but some of them do. Did Julian do that when he was little? Sometimes he looks like he’s about to, but he always stops himself. Is it because he cares about the staring? Did people treat you like a bad mother when he did that? Is that what you told him? That’s can’t be very good for a person. Not being allowed to do this is like not being allowed to smile. It’s sad. I think Julian gets sad a lot.”

Mrs. Bashir was just looking at Mursa with a question face, but she didn’t ask any more questions. Sometimes that happened when she talked a lot. People who didn’t know her often looked like that. Father didn’t. Cardassians liked talking, so they usually didn’t. Julian never did, for some reason, but he really liked to talk.

Father finally finished his talk with Mr. Bashir and they went home. Well, Father went home. Mursa had permission to stay out to finish her job. Garak had noticed that Mursa was good at spying and had given her an assignment. She had to tell him how it went.


	18. Pride and Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bashirs make a deal with Starfleet. Garak makes a deal with Zimmerman and then does some research on the Eugenics Wars. He finds out something interesting about Augments.
> 
> CW: Bashir Parents, though this is the last chapter with them and they don't do much. Also, there are some references to child abuse and mistreatment of the mentally ill.

Garak’s shop was closed, so it was dark. But, Mursa could easily see Garak sitting in the corner, because the screen of his PADD glowed in the dark.

“Garak?”

“Ah, Mursa! How did it go?”

“Father and I went to the guest hall like you said and we talked to Mr. and Mrs. Bashir. I mostly just talked to Mrs. Bashir. She seemed mostly nice, but I don’t think I like her very much. What sort of information was I supposed to get from that?”

“Your mission was not one of information gathering, Mursa. I simply needed you to meet them and act as yourself.”

“Well, that’s what I did. They were confused, I think. Mrs. Bashir didn’t want me to move my hands this way.”

“You did a wonderful job, Mursa.”

“When do I get to do real spying?”

“As soon as I have a proper assignment for you, I’ll let you know. Now, would you like to see some of what I’ve been researching?”

“If I’m allowed to. Am I really allowed to do that?”

“It’s for practical reasons. When one discovers a secret for the purpose of blackmail, it’s a good idea to let someone else know the secret, so that if the person you're blackmailing silences you, it will do nothing to stop the secret from getting out. Now, I don’t think I’m in any danger, but I want you to know the secrets I find, just in case.”

“Is this gonna help Julian?”

“I hope so. Even if it doesn’t, it will mean consequences for those who put him in this position in the first place.”

“Are people gonna die?”

“No. Julian wouldn’t like that.”

“He probably won’t like what you’re doing either.”

“Leave Julian’s feelings to me, Mursa. If I thought this would deeply upset him, I wouldn’t do it.”

…

The next day, Julian was ready to hand in his resignation. His bags were all packed for his trip to Trapis IV. When he woke up, he was aware that Elim was only pretending to be asleep beside him. He’d been up to something. At that moment, Julian really didn’t care. He just wanted to get this over with. He pulled on his uniform, knowing this was probably the last time he’d ever wear it, and set out for Sisko’s office. He didn’t tell Elim where he was going, because he already knew. Where else would he go?

Along the way, Julian saw Doctor Zimmerman. His bags were packed and Julian hoped to never see him again. He was talking to T’Pella Varak, the Romulan woman who’d been imprisoned with Julian. She’d applied for asylum on the station and was trying to contact her Vulcan relatives to gain Federation citizenship. Zimmerman seemed to be quite interested in T’Pella, but not at all interested in what she had to say. He’d been like that with Leeta, according to Elim. She complained when she visited his shop. 

Well, it wasn’t any of Julian’s business, so he went on his way into Sisko’s office. Against his wishes, his parents were there, ignoring want he wanted “for his own good” yet again. It wasn’t a surprise. Captain Sisko turned from them to Julian.

“Come in, Doctor. We were just talking about you.”

On a viewscreen, another person was involved in the conversation, an admiral named Bennett, the judge for Julian’s case. Sisko explained that Julian’s parents came to him and explained Julian’s situation. He called up the admiral to make some sort of deal. They’d reached an agreement. His father summed it up in a single sentence:

“I’m going to prison.”

“What?”

“Two years. A minimum security penal colony in New Zealand.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you doing this for me?”

“Because I’m the one who committed the crime and it’s about time I took responsibility for it.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Let him do it, Julian.”

His mother was backing his father up, as usual, but, unusually, she’d called him Julian. She was calling him Julian because that’s what he wanted to be called. 

“Fine. But isn’t two years a little harsh?”

Julian didn’t know why he was defending them. For some reason, he felt like he had to be the one punished, even if that didn’t make sense. The admiral’s lecture gave the reason.

“I don’t think so. Centuries ago, we tried to ‘improve’ the species through DNA resequencing and what did we get for our trouble? The Eugenics Wars, first underground in the 1990s, then more publicly with World War III, and there were a few further conflicts in the 22nd century as well. For every Julian Bashir that can be created, there’s a Khan Singh waiting in the wings: a ‘superhuman’ whose ambition and thirst for power have been enhanced along with his intellect.”

Miles had said that genetic engineering couldn’t give a man ambition or a personality, but Khan’s personality had been defined by his ambition as a result of his enhancements. Since it was so completely banned, did anyone actually know what genetic resequencing did?

…

“What’s the point of all this? Doctor Bashir has already confessed to his crimes and blackmailing me won’t change his mind.”

Garak had arranged a private meeting with Doctor Zimmerman. This was the last stage of his plan, the one that Julian was the most likely to disapprove of. But, Garak had planned it all carefully. No one would actually be hurt.

“That’s not why I’m doing this, Doctor Zimmerman. Not at all. If Julian knew that I was using blackmail to protect him from legal consequences, he’d be furious! No, that’s not what this is about. How does it feel to be threatened like this, Doctor? What’s the first emotion that comes to mind.”

“Extreme annoyance.”

“That’s a lie, one you’re telling to yourself more than anyone else. It’s fear, isn’t it? The fear, not just of getting caught and being punished by the legal system, but by what it might do to your reputation, what people might think of you, what life you’d have left if it cost you your career. It’s actually worse for you than it is for him. My Julian, whether he has a career or not, is not alone. You are. Was that loneliness what made you so indiscreet on that trip to Risa six years ago? The idea that a beautiful young woman would want to be in your bed, who’d be so eager to listen to all of your plans in hologram development?”

“It’s not a crime to be single.”

“You committed no crime, not intentionally, anyway, but you still caused quite a mess, I’m afraid. You never even found out, did you? That lovely Vulcan girl was actually a Romulan, a member of the Tal Shiar, no less. You’re ideas for holographic security officers brought to mind the idea of holographic soldiers. An undefeatable army. Luckily for you, that woman wasn’t an ordinary member of the Tal Shiar. She reported the incident to the Federation and all was well. But, I know her and she’s told me those plans. I could easily give them to the Romulans, or possibly the Dominion as a little way of helping Cardassia. Since it’s really not in my best interest to do so, I won’t. But, if I hear of you having any business with my Julian again, I might say something. If I don’t, T’Pella herself might. If she doesn’t, I’ve told someone else as well. Nothing will stop the word from getting out if you anger me. Do I make myself clear?”

“I could report you for this.”

“If you report me, the anonymous person whom I’ve entrusted with the information you don’t want getting out will begin distributing it. Furthermore, you can’t damage me. I’ve already spoken to the station’s Chief of Security and gained his permission to put my plans into practice. It’s hard to convince him to let crimes go unpunished, but this is barely a crime. I haven’t actually done anything to harm you. I also didn’t use any illegal methods to gain the information. The fact that you and T’Pella were both staying at the same hotel on Risa is on public record and T’Pella volunteered the information surrounding the meeting without any coercion on my part.”

“And all of this because you want to scare me? You went through a lot of trouble.”

“Trouble is worth trouble and my Julian is worth everything. I’m putting you in his place, afraid of some terrible secret ruining him when he didn’t knowingly commit a crime. You had no idea that you were speaking to a Romulan spy and Julian was only a child when his parents had him enhanced. He doesn’t deserve to be punished, but you’d have him punished anyway, and I’m ready, willing, and able to do the same to you.”

“Alright. I get it. I was just about to leave the station and I’ll leave it quietly.”

And Doctor Zimmerman did leave quietly, though trying to take Leeta with him caused a bit of a scene. Rom confessed his love for the dabo girl and, for some reason, she returned it. Garak couldn’t really see the appeal, but Rom was better than most Ferengi, at least. Leeta, a Bajoran without a family, so isolated from her own people, and desperate enough to be employed by Quark, deserved some happiness in her life, and if Rom was what made her happy, Garak couldn’t complain.

T’Pella stood at Garak’s side as they watched Doctor Zimmerman make his exit, already trailing after another woman. The ridges around the Romulan’s eyes flared. A Cardassian would’ve clicked her tongue. If she’d been Human, she’d have rolled her eyes.

“I talked to him this morning. The bastard didn’t even recognize me.”

…

The Bashirs were saying their goodbyes at the airlock. Julian’s father hadn’t said a word since they’d left Sisko’s office. When he hugged his mother goodbye, she whispered in his ear.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Last night, I met a little girl who reminded me a lot of how you were all those years ago. She and her father got along. They were a happy family. That could’ve been us.”

Julian’s father hugged him awkwardly.

“I…guess I’ll see you in a couple of years.”

“I won’t try to avoid you. Father…Thank you. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I’d like to think that it’s because you actually care.”

When his father said nothing in response, Julian decided to believe it was because of the intense emotions involved. He was too tired to let it be anything else.

…

Garak hadn’t expected things to work out so that Julian was still assigned to the station. He had no interest in fighting for his career and he kept telling people not to, so that wasn’t Garak’s goal. It wasn’t exactly revenge, either, but that was closer to the truth. What he wanted was for the Bashirs to admit to their crimes and for the people involved to know what they’d done. Julian had spent his adult life afraid of discovery and ashamed of who he was. He almost wanted to be punished for it. So, the person who revealed his secret would know the fear of discovery that Julian felt and, hopefully, at least one of the people who had the enhancements done would feel guilt for their actions that matched Julian’s shame from the result of them. They’d be punished with the knowledge of the weight of their crimes. It was all that was really necessary.

The plan to make the Bashir parents feel some amount of guilt had had mixed results. Mursa’s report had implied that they were both unchanged by encountering her and her father, but Julian had said that Amsha had actually apologized to him. The Devars were a happy family and Amsha just wanted peace in the home. It was probably why she supported the enhancements in the first place. Richard was constantly unhappy with Julian’s academic performance, most likely complaining about it relentlessly. Garak knew that he’d mistreated Julian for his perceived failures. He wasn’t Enabran Tain, but he’d been verbally abusive, at the very least. Perhaps Amsha believed that the enhancements were what it would take to make it stop. Whether she was concerned for her son’s safety or purely for her own peace of mind, he couldn’t say. There was a chance that she’d been trying to protect Julian, in a way, but she either cared too much for her husband or was too easily intimidated by him.

Well, it was all over for now. Julian was lying in bed with Kukalaka and a mug of Tarkalean tea, watching a holo-recording of a tennis match. He still loved the game and even just watching strangers play it seemed to cheer him up. Garak had little interest in physical games that served no practical purpose, but he liked hearing Julian cheer and argue with the screen.

While his mate enjoyed his game, Garak was looking at his PADD, still doing research. He wanted to know more about Julian’s enhancements and the history behind them and the laws against them. The Federation was always seeking to improve the individual, from what he could tell, so what were they afraid of here? Julian seemed upset about the disrespect for Human life involved. DNA was someone’s fundamental nature and forcibly changing it was like killing someone and replacing them with an improved duplicate, not just the same person but better. It was a rejection of the very nature of the individual being enhanced. It reminded Garak of how Romulans killed the weak among them, but with added efficiently. You could kill the weak without decreasing your population. He was surprised that this wasn’t standard practice on Cardassia. The rejection of the individual wasn’t something that they particularly cared about, so the ethics involved wouldn’t bother them. Garak usually wouldn’t disagree with Cardassian values, but his Julian was too beautiful of an individual to reject. It went beyond his enhanced brilliance. His kindness and courage weren’t genetically enhanced. The things about Julian that saved Garak’s life were part of his very nature. How could that be anything but perfect?

The Federation, as much as they cared about individual rights, didn’t reject genetic engineering for that reason. They believed it caused side effects that were a threat to society, a much more Cardassian reason to disapprove. According to his research on genetic engineering in Humans, that which was available in public records, Augments, as they were called, tended to suffer from severe mental health problems. That, combined with a heightened ambition and intelligence, led to mad dictators taking over worlds. The name Khan Singh always came up when this was discussed, so Garak looked up the name. 

Khan Noonien Singh was born in 1970, the son of Sarina Kaur, a eugenicist, and an unknown father. Kaur performed the experimental enhancements herself as part of a secret project to improve the Human race, not by enhancing them all, but by creating an enhanced class of rulers. The children of the project were designed to be dictators, told that they were born to rule the world. 

The project was discovered and destroyed in 1974. Kaur was killed and Khan was sent to an orphanage. Somehow, he still grew up to rule half the world in the 1990s. Even though he was very young when his mother died, he had an enhanced memory. He remembered her telling him that he was designed and destined for greatness and he never gave up on it.

It wasn’t side effects of the enhancements that made Khan so deadly. He was taught his ambition. It was enhanced, not through DNA resequencing, but through conditioning. His earliest memories were of being told that he was supposed to rule the world. It was the ambition of Sarina Kaur that created Khan. She enhanced him herself and trained him to be ambitious and ruthless. It was nothing like what happened to Julian.

After the first Eugenics Wars, with that first round of Augments gone, those enhanced later were more like Julian, children that failed to meet the expectations of their parents, usually those with disabilities that the parents wished to cure. Augmented children were usually enhanced somewhere between the ages of three and six, and they were usually discovered soon after. Their mental health problems were so severe that their parents turned themselves in to have their children treated. The Augments were institutionalized and kept out of sight for the rest of their lives, never given a chance.

Garak thought of how Julian described the experience of being genetically enhanced. He was a small child, separated from his parents, not knowing what was happening, being put through all sorts of treatments, some of them quite invasive and many of them painful, and then trained to act as his parents would expect when they returned for him. Julian had gone along with everything out of fear. But, Garak believed that if he’d been subjected to such things, he would’ve lashed out. He would’ve been angry. He would’ve used his intelligence to be impossible to control, to make adults hurt for what they’d done. 

That’s what happened to the reported Augments. Garak managed to access the database of an institution that had four cases. The records were private, so Garak was back to breaking Federation law, but this was important. Among the four cases, two of them had received botched enhancements from fake doctors. As far as Garak could tell, the enhancements actually did nothing to them. The frustrated parents of one of the two nearly killed him and his enhancements were discovered by social services when he was removed from their custody. 

The other was a very strange case. She was born like Khan, the child of a rogue researcher. The mother had discovered via prenatal screening that her mind was developing strangely and decided to use her as a lab rat for genetic experiments. The experiments failed. When the girl still hadn’t said a word by her third birthday, her mother gave up. She didn’t turn her in. She just ignored her. Once again, social services got involved.

The two more conventional cases at the Institute very very similar to one another. Like Julian, they fell behind in early education and their impatient parents had them enhanced. Shortly after, though they improved academically, they began to misbehave, having difficulty controlling their impulses. The parents came forward and the children were institutionalized. The only major difference between the two was the age at which they were exposed. One of them bullied other children at his school and often argued with teachers. He was disruptive and aggressive and it didn’t take long for any of the adults around him to figure out that something was wrong. 

The other was a bit more subtle. As a child, after being enhanced, she occasionally argued with adults and often encouraged other children, especially boys, to misbehave on her behalf. But, it wasn’t until she hit puberty that her case became truly severe. She was obsessed with men and couldn’t control herself around them. She developed erotomania, believing strangers to be madly in love with her. Eventually, something happened. The details were erased from her record when she came of age, but she was arrested and revealed to the police while in custody that she’d been enhanced. The parents came forward to confirm this and the girl was sent to the Institute instead of a juvenile detention facility.

These four weren’t ambitious dictators. They were frightening, angry children just reacting to what adults were doing to them. The enhancements themselves most likely weren’t what caused their behavior. It reminded Garak of some of the trouble he used to get into as a child after a few too many years of being locked in a closet. The Federation had completely misunderstood the problem. It wasn’t because their DNA was altered, it was because the process of alteration was painful for them.

But, perhaps the opinion of someone with personal experience and medical training might be useful.

“Julian?”

“What?”

“When your game is over, there’s something I want you to look at. I think a new scientific theory could be developed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write something about the Jack Pack for a while and I have no patience, so I might as well start now.


	19. Guilt and Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak's grief over Cardassia, Augment rights, and Julian's self-loathing are discussed and it devolves into smut.

Jack Johnson, Lauren Williams, Patrick Lincoln, and Sarina Douglas. They weren’t the only Augments at the Institute, but they’d been isolated together. They were the most hopeful cases, the ones doctors thought could be rehabilitated. When Julian read through the information Elim had gathered about them, he wasn’t so sure. Jack was aggressive, Lauren was known to be manipulative, Patrick was extremely socially immature, and Sarina was practically catatonic.

“Elim, there’s nothing I can do for these people.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Think about it. On the very worst days of your life, you’ve acted a lot like the ways they’re described, though perhaps with a bit more subtlety. The main difference is that you didn’t stand out as you were growing up. You didn’t lash out like Mr. Johnson and Ms. Williams, and you didn’t completely shut down like Mr. Lincoln and Ms. Douglas. You handled your pain quietly, so nobody noticed. There are probably many more like you out there.”

“I still don’t know why you’re showing me all of this. I’m not the right type of doctor to help them and how much we have in common doesn’t really matter.”

“I want you to think about this: What if it wasn’t side effects of the enhancements that caused their mental health problems, but strong reactions to early childhood trauma? They don’t have the side effects the Federation fears. They’ve been institutionalized their entire lives. They know they’re not going to rule the world. They don’t have the ambitions of Khan Singh, a man who was told from birth that he was superior and meant to conquer. It wasn’t the treatments themselves that did it. Singh had no serious mental health problems outside of his ambitions. He was the way he was because he was encouraged to behave that way. These four have problems caused by what they’ve suffered and have been made to feel like monsters.”

“So, the problem with genetic resequencing isn’t that the procedure causes side effects, but that it’s traumatic to go through and that causes mental health problems?”

“That’s my current theory. As a man of science, I thought you might like to do some of your own research. If I’m correct, it would change how the situation could be handled.”

“It would. If these symptoms are really just expressions of trauma, they could be treated with normal psychotherapy. These people could be able to lead normal lives if given proper counseling.”

“Now, we only need to test my theory. I think you should meet these people. As someone who’s shared their experiences, they’re more likely to tell you about them. If you could encourage psychologists to examine the situation more carefully, to listen to what these people have to say, it could change everything.”

“So, Augments are victims, not threats. In that case, if they were mentally well enough to work, they could join Starfleet or practice medicine and no one’s safety would be threatened.”

“What happened in your case would be the correct response. The parents who had the procedures done subjected their children to abuse and should be punished for it, but the Augments themselves should be allowed to work freely. You’re mentally well enough to do good work for Starfleet Medical. So, your father is punished and you’re not. By Cardassian standards, you’re still willing and able to serve the state. Those at the Institute can’t serve the state because of the condition they were placed in. Your father took that risk by having you enhanced. On Cardassia, that would be considered a crime against the state.”

“But on Cardassia, he’d be executed. He doesn’t deserve to die.”

“Then he’s lucky to be a Federation citizen.”

“I didn’t even want him to go to prison, you know.”

“It was his decision. You mustn’t blame yourself for everything he does.”

“I know.”

“And someday, you’ll be able to demonstrate that knowledge. Right now, I have something else for you to focus on. I need your help.”

“To help the Augments in the Institute? Elim, why is this so important to you? It can’t all be for me.”

“Because Cardassia is dead. I can no longer serve the state. For the past few years, I’ve lived for two things, hope of returning home being one of them. That hope is gone, so I only have one thing left to do with my life. You. Protecting you, caring for you, helping you. You’re all I have left. If we can change the way Augments are viewed and treated in the Federation, you’ll no longer be a victim of prejudice. You’ll be safe from that mistreatment. It is, in fact, all for you.”

“You shouldn’t completely give up on Cardassia yet. Just because they joined the Dominion, doesn’t mean they won’t try to leave at some point, and when that happens, the Federation will help them.”

“I should tell you not to be so optimistic, but you’re not. You’re not being optimistic about Cardassia because that’s what you believe. You want hope for Cardassia because you can’t accept all of my devotion. You’d prefer to share it.”

“Compared to an entire planet, I’m really not worth it.”

“Yes, you are. Like the other Augments, you’ve been made to feel like a monster. You were made an Augment because you were deemed a failure. No matter how smug you may act when you’re in a better mood, you still think you’re a monster and failure.”

“Augments are known for their arrogance. That’s just another part of the problem. And, I was a failure! I was failing in school, I was failing to meet landmarks of development, I was failing to behave as if I was any older than two! And I’m still a failure. I don’t know how to act like a proper Human. I was never taught. No one else needed to be. I never understood. Why do other people just know things without being taught about them? They all just know when to speak, when not to speak, what to say, what not to say, how to say things right, when to lie, when to tell the truth, all of that! Even with my enhancements, I still didn’t know. All that time, all that money, all that effort, all that risk, and I’m still all wrong!”

Silence. Julian needed to catch his breath. He’d just said aloud so many things he’d been feeling for years. He had no idea where it all came from. He didn’t feel that bad all the time, or even most of the time. He’d had a few bad days. He was tired. But, to his horror, he knew he believed every word he’d said.

Elim waited until Julian could breathe again before speaking.

“Have you gotten it all out of your system?”

“What?”

“You just let all your anger and self-loathing out of your mind and into the air. I don’t think you’ve ever really done that before.”

“You’re right. I haven’t.”

“How do you feel now?”

“No different than before, really.”

“Would it help if I reminded you that I don’t care about your perceived arrogance, since you can back it up with your actions? I don’t care about your previous failures. You can’t convince me not to adore you. It’s too late for that now. After all the trouble we’ve been through recently, perhaps you should allow yourself some happiness. It seems that without Jem’Hadar or Starfleet around to antagonize you, you just begin antagonizing yourself in their place. Don’t.”

“It’s hard not to.”

“I know. I’m a traitor to my father, a traitor to Cardassia, sentimental, undisciplined, and so on and so forth. I have the same bad habit. It helps to stay in the moment, to feel something.”

“Like pleasure. You’re trying to fuck me, aren’t you?”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who knows you as well as I do. Now, since it actually would cheer me up, go ahead and seduce me.”

And he did. Elim was more enthusiastic about giving Julian pleasure than he’d ever been. He’d always been eager to please in bed, but this was about sending a message. He wanted to show Julian with his actions just how much he was loved. He showed him in kisses, playful nips at his skin, anywhere and everywhere that he could reach. Julian allowed him to touch his bare chest for the first time since Tain marked him there. When Elim touched him, that was all that he could feel.

“My one remaining treasure…” Elim whispered in Julian’s ear, close enough to caress it with the tip of his tongue.” 

“CestUlik Federaji Kardasia…”

_“Federation son of Cardassia…”_

This was Elim’s way of declaring Julian his equal and promising commitment. Any phrase involving Cardassia or status as a Cardassian was a serious compliment.

“Ka jaraDominaji.”

_“You above the Dominion.”_

He’d never say “above Cardassia” and Julian never wanted him to.

“Ka jaraFederaji.”

_“You above the Federation.”_

“Elim!”

“Hush, dear one. I meant no offense. Now, lay back and be still.”

Julian laid back and tried his best to be still when Elim took his erection into his mouth. As someone who often expressed his emotions with his entire body, he had a tendency to squirm during moments like this. Sometimes, Elim would hold him down, though not in a restraining way. Julian kind of liked the weight, the deep pressure, so he didn’t mind. At that moment, the firm hands on his hips were strangely comforting. He felt safe when Elim held him, even like this. He found that he wanted to be even closer. He struggled to sit up and Elim let him go. 

“Is something the matter?”

“No. I just…I just want you to hold me closer. It’s a kind of stupid request, I know, but-“

Elim cut Julian off with a kiss as he pulled him into his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around around him. Their chests were touching, heart against heart. Julian sighed in pleasure and returned the embrace. For a moment, they just held each other, slowly rocking together. But, they both intended to finish what they started. They could cuddle later. Elim’s hands moving further down Julian’s back to reach his ass reminded him that he was still hard and wanted to do something about it.

Julian lifted himself up a little, allowing Elim to reach his buttocks and spread them apart with one hand, while reaching between them to insert a finger into his ajan with the other. Julian leaned forward and bit and sucked on his lover’s neck ridges while he gently prepared him for penetration.

When Julian felt ready, he squeezed Elim’s wrist, signaling him to take his fingers out of him. He gripped Elim’s shoulders while his mate held his waist and guided him down onto his prUt. Julian half bounced and half rocked himself up and down in a way that felt like both a grind and a thrust, satisfying both partners. Though it probably wasn’t physically possible, Julian could’ve sworn that Elim was deeper inside him than he’d ever been before. That combined with his arms around him made him feel like his lover was everywhere, surrounding him and touching him inside and out.

They made love for a long time, moving at a slow pace. This wasn’t just about satisfying lust, or even above expressing love. It went beyond that. They were joined together, Elim making that and more clear with his actions, the fact that he was everywhere, that he was keeping Julian close, keeping him safe, clutching him to his chest like something precious, something valued. Julian had to believe that, whether he deserved it or not, Elim loved him unconditionally. He didn’t have to prove himself. He didn’t have to earn his keep. He was simply safe at home in the arms of his lover. Whether he deserved it or not, it felt good. It felt like whether he deserved or not didn’t even matter.

“Julian, we’ve been at this for quite a while? Are you starting to get sore?”

“Not at all.”

“Another use for enhanced stamina that the doctors didn’t intend?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

They continued until they were exhausted, Julian falling back on the bed, taking Elim with him, who rubbed his irllun lazily against his mate’s entrance. Julian was vaguely aware of the ache in his erect cock when Elim grabbed it and stroked the pain away. He finished things the way he often did: he stroked Julian until he came and them ground his irllun against his spasming anus while he orgasmed, following him shortly after.

They collapsed into bed side by side, never completely letting go of one another. Julian curled up against his lover like a vine around the side of a garden wall. Elim smiled and petted his hair.

“Since you’re fluent in the language, I’m sure you know that Kardasi has two words that translate to the Standard ‘need’.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“One of the two words is far more common than the other. Most of the time, the word is ‘telUp’. That is a word for things and actions considered necessary. But, in the phrase ‘Rakret H’ssti’er’, the word ‘kret’ is used instead. Kret is used only to refer to the greatest, most-essential needs, like the need for food or air. It’s something you’d die without. The Need to Protect described as Rakret H’ssti’er is a state of mind in which a mate’s most essential needs become prioritized above the needs of their protector. If you’re injured, in danger of being killed by those injuries, and I feel Rakret H’ssti’er, your injuries cause me more pain than any injuries I sustain in that state. If we’re both injured, I lose awareness of my own injuries to make sure that you’re taken care of first. I find it interesting that in our love of self-sacrifice in the name of the state, we turned something completely selfless in our nature into nothing more than a legend.”

“I’m definitely not saying a disapprove, as I very much approve, but why would a species evolve a defense mechanism that overrides self-preservation?”

“We evolved as social creatures. Social creatures evolve ways not only of ensuring their own survival, but the survival of their group, especially their family. If a male animal mates with a female, and he dies before their child is born, the child will still survive. But, if the female dies, the child is lost with her. So, in a situation where a male of our specie’s ancestors and a female he’d impregnated were both in danger, the male would instinctively act to save his mate before himself, so that their child could be born.”

“It’s like how maternal instincts in Humans mean that mothers will instinctively act to protect their children before themselves. Actually, though this trait is traditionally believed to be a hormonal response that mothers feel towards children they personally gave birth to, it was scientifically proven centuries ago that the response comes from any bond between parent and child. Fathers had the same instincts, as did parents who’d adopted their children. We assumed it was something directly tied to the physical experience of childbirth, when it was really an emotional response to parenthood.”

“Assuming that the ways people react to their environments are part of their biological nature is a common Human mistake, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is. Strangely enough, for all our belief in inherent nature, we’re very quick to try and alter it when it becomes inconvenient for us.”

“You’re a very illogical species. How did the Vulcans tolerate you after first contact?”

“I don’t know the history very well, but I don’t think they did. They just didn’t want to give up on their project.”

“Well then, if they can put up with that level of insanity, perhaps there’s a chance that the project of Humanity might someday be completed.”

“I’ll try my best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Here's a thing. I thought that I'd reach the Empok Nor chapters by Halloween, but I'm not even close. The next chapter will go further into the backstories of the Jack Pack, which are kind of scary, though not in the fun, Halloween sort of way, but that's the best I'll be able to do by the end of the month.


	20. Fear and Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some flashbacks covering the childhoods of Patrick, Lauren, Jack, and Sarina.
> 
> CW: There's a lot here. Ableism, various kinds of child abuse, implied sexual harassment, Lauren and Jack being very creepy children after being enhanced, and someone almost getting killed due to an accident with an airlock. All in all, it's pretty dark. The good thing is, since it's all flashbacks that don't really factor into the next chapter, it's also completely skippable, if it's too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could've done something more "fun scary" for Halloween, but this is what I've got.

Starfleet Children's Hospital, 2320:

The hardest part of the job was dealing with the "grieving" parents.

“Mrs. Lincoln, your son is perfectly well physically. Patrick’s not going to die from this.”

“But this…This is not my baby!”

Dr. Nguyen wished Mrs. Lincoln wouldn’t say things like that in front of the child. Patrick wasn’t able to talk, but he was certainly able to hear. From the tests she’d performed, Patrick Lincoln, though completely non-verbal, had perfect hearing and his comprehension of what he was being told was normal for a three year-old child. The kid was perfectly healthy and definitely aware of what the people around him were saying.

“This is a very common reaction to this sort of situation. Children like Patrick can seem…uncanny to some of us. Our ancestors often saw it as supernatural, blaming elves and fairies for replacing their children with these strange copies. But, we now know that that’s complete nonsense. Patrick is your baby, Mrs. Lincoln. He’s the same little boy he’s always been. This is the person he’s meant to be.”

“That can’t be! There has to be some way to fix this.”

“The best we can do is teach him how to adjust to his surroundings. He can have speech therapy classes here at the hospital, and he might never sound completely ‘normal’, but there’s a good chance he’ll gain some limited speech ability. As for his other cognitive abilities, if questions are put in terms that he can understand, he’s very bright when it comes to logical problem solving. This is actually quite common. Autism Spectrum Disorders are as diverse as their name implies, but a contrast between poor verbal skills and above-average skill in mathematics is one of the most identifiable varieties. This variety is almost always diagnosed in early childhood, due to it fitting a traditional stereotype, especially in boys.”

“I don’t care how common it is! If my son wasn’t bright in school, I could handle that. But, having a child who can never tell you they love you is…It’s not fair!”

Dr. Nguyen had a feeling that this would be one of the grieving parents who’d never stop grieving. There was nothing that she could really do about it.

…

San Francisco, 2332:

Patrick ran and ran, not knowing where he was running to. He still felt a bit sick and he eventually got tired and fell down. A man in a Starfleet uniform saw him and went to help him. He took him to a hospital and the doctors got the poison out. He told them what’d happened and Mommy was arrested. He didn’t see it, but the Starfleet officer told him.

A few days later, a new doctor came in. Patrick didn’t recognize her from before.

“Hello, Patrick. I’m Doctor Nguyen. Do you remember me?”

“No.”

“Well, you were very little when I last saw you. You’ve grown up so much. Patrick, you know that your mother’s going to jail, don’t you?”

“Yeah. She tried to kill me.”

“I’m very sorry about that. When I first met your mother, I was actually a bit worried that she wouldn’t take very good care of you. I’m sorry that I decided not to investigate further. This never should’ve happened.”

“That’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m glad that you think so. Patrick…your mother made a very serious confession when she was arrested. She said that after I diagnosed you with Autism Spectrum Disorder, she took you to have illegal genetic enhancements. She thought it would change you. It apparently did, at least a little, because there were side effects. Your emotional maturation was stopped. Even though you’re very smart, you still see the world like you did as a very little child. This condition is not fixable. I’m afraid you’ll never be able to live independently as an adult.”

“Oh…I’m never gonna grow up?”

“Your body will, but your mind won’t. So, you’re going to have to stay at a special hospital for people who’ve been genetically enhanced. They’ll be able to take care of you better than your mother could.”

“And they won’t try to kill me?”

“No, Patrick. They won’t try to kill you. I promise.”

…

New York, 2341:

Lauren had only been in the hospital for two weeks. It’d been a very bad time, to say the least. They’d been messing with her blood, something with her DNA, and doing various other things to make her smart. Lauren liked the idea of being smart, but this way didn’t feel right. All this information, all this stuff, it was just being crammed into her head all at once. It was more than most adults would’ve been able to take, certainly not something a four year-old was meant to go through. Lauren had cried, she’d screamed, she’d fought, she’d tried to run away, she’d tried to hide. Nothing worked.

But, Daddy had come to get her. He was apparently there early. He’d had second thoughts about whatever he was putting Lauren through and was putting a stop to it. She was smarter than before, but she wasn’t going to get any of the other stuff. Daddy called it a failed experiment.

“Let’s not tell your mother about this, okay?”

“But won’t she notice I’m different?”

“Let me take care of that. Let me take care of things from now on.”

The fact that Daddy was sorry didn’t help very much, since it’d all already happened anyway, so Lauren didn’t exactly forgive him, but she wasn’t quite as mad as she was before.

…

Middle of Nowhere, 2343:

Jack had no idea where he was, who these people were, or why they were yelling at him. The last part wasn’t surprising. He got yelled at a lot and he never knew why. Dad thought that Jack couldn’t hear him, so he paid the doctors to make everything louder. Jack could hear things just fine. Jack could say things, too. He knew lots of words. He liked words. But, when he was scared, Jack didn’t talk. Jack was scared a lot. Dad yelled a lot and it hurt his ears. Now, everything hurt his ears. He was pretty sure that he was being punished. 

Jack was learning things at the hospital. Many new things. He’d learned that he wasn’t a normal person and that the machines and needles were supposed to make him normal. It wasn’t working. He was in a lot of trouble. They thought he was stupid, so they made him smarter. He was already smart, so now he was just even smarter and still not normal. He could already see and hear very well, but they thought he couldn’t, because he reacted too slow, so now everything was even worse. They were right that he’d been clumsy before, and they’d fixed that, but they kept going. Jack was now really strong, really fast, really flexible. He could move so much and he wanted to try everything. But, just like he got in trouble for fidgeting before, he couldn’t do anything now either. Dad had already been tying his hands up, sometimes wrapping them with tape.

But, things were different now. They were going to be different. Jack was strong now. He could break the ropes. Nobody could stop him. The doctors kept knocking him out, but when he woke up, he just kept going. He didn’t have to listen to them anymore. If he ignored them, they couldn’t punish him. They’d tried to change him to control him, but instead, they’d set him free.

…

New York, 2346:

Lauren was good at spying, just like she was good at hide-and-seek. Mom and Dad had no idea she was listening when they argued about her. It was always about her, never about anything else. Ever since those two weeks at the hospital, Lauren had been bad. It wasn’t her fault, really. Everyone else started it. Of course she lied all the time. If she couldn’t trust the adults, why should they be able to trust her? It was only fair.

When she’d just started kindergarten, Lauren became friends with a girl named Betsy. Betsy had a pet goldfish that she kept in a bowl. Goldfish are only gold in still water. It’s because they’re supposed to live in streams. So, Lauren put the goldfish in the stream at the park, because that’s where it belonged. Dad told Mom not to be mad, because it was some sort of misunderstanding. Mom was still mad, but Lauren wasn’t in trouble that time.

Lauren got in trouble all the time. She argued with the teachers, because none of them knew what they were talking about. She also liked that she could make the boys in her class do anything. She’d just smile and giggle and they did whatever she wanted. Men were easy. Her father, the kids in school, teachers, counselors, all of them. She was their queen and they were her slaves.

But, nothing Lauren did was really about her. It was all about her parents, how her behavior reflected badly on them, as if they had any control over what she did. She didn’t let anybody have any control over what she did. They both thought it was all about themselves, too. It was all about whose fault it was. When Lauren did something bad, Mom said it was Dad’s fault for spoiling her, and Dad said it was Mom’s fault for being too strict. They cared more about who to blame than whatever they were blaming each other for in the first place.

It wasn’t a surprise when Mom left. It wasn’t a surprise that Dad said it was Lauren’s fault.

“This is exactly why I wanted you to get better! They warned me about this when you were diagnosed. They said that autism destroyed families. I suppose you only did what you’re meant to do.”

Carolina II Colony, 2347:

Jack thought his dad was an idiot. He’d given him superpowers and was surprised when Jack used those superpowers to fight back against him. He was strong enough to shove him away when he got too close. He was fast enough to dodge punches and thrown objects. He could climb out the window of their ninth floor apartment and reach the ground whenever he wanted to run away.

Jack ran away a lot. He ran away from home and from school. When he wasn’t running, he was fighting. He argued with his teacher, because she was boring and couldn’t even spell. He fought the other kids who thought he was weird because it didn’t matter if he was weird if he could beat them up. When the cafeteria stopped serving the one type of cake he liked and the lady working there said it was silly of him to make a scene about something that he shouldn’t even be able to notice, he told her that if was the leader of a gang and carried a phaser, she wouldn’t dare to complain and she’d make sure that he got exactly what he wanted. The school actually sent him home.

When he came back to school, Jack was assigned to a separate classroom for kids the adults were scared of. They said they were just worried about him, but if they were actually worried about him, one of them would’ve found out about his dad and his illegal superpowers already. There were no other kids in the new classroom and he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere unsupervised anymore. He went plenty of places unsupervised anyway, since figuring out how to run away had become his favorite game. It was a better intellectual challenge than any of his schoolwork. So, despite everything, Jack still had fun sometimes.

…

New York, 2348:

Lauren loved the look of shock on the counselor’s face when she told him what she did. That was the plan. She had to do a bad thing that didn't even make sense, so no one would think to ignore it.

“Lauren, how old are you?”

“Old enough too know better, but too young to care.”

“I was asking for the exactly number.”

“Eleven.”

“Eleven. Lauren, do you understand how serious this is? If you were an adult, you’d be in prison right now.”

“I know. I’ve always kind of wanted to go to prison. I could stay out of the house for a while.”

“Why do you want to leave your house?”

“You haven’t even met my dad, have you, Mr. Wilson?”

“If there’s something going on at home, you can tell me.”

“It’s nothing like that. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I wasn’t implying that it was anything sexual.”

“Everything’s sexual with men.”

“Not with Pablo or Mike or Christian.”

“Yeah. I know. I didn’t do it for fun.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“I already told you. I want to go to prison.”

“Why do you want to go to prison?”

“Isn’t it obvious? There’s something wrong with me. There’s always been something wrong with me. There’s even something illegal involved. You see, I was genetically enhanced when I was four years old.”

“Really? Are you sure you’re not making that up?”

“Positive. I remember it very clearly. I know it’s illegal, so I should be in prison, but I don’t want to be in prison for something my dad did. So, I did something so bad that I could go to prison for what I did instead. It wasn’t even as bad as what I thought I was going to do. I didn’t hurt those boys. I just scared them a little. When Pablo ran away, I let him. Mike was too stupid to realize what I was playing at, so I didn’t even do anything to him. I gave Christian plenty of chances to run, but he just froze, so I had to stop myself, which I did. I know I have problems with boys, but I don’t want to be a monster. I’m already a mutant, so I’m probably already a monster anyway, but I want to be stopped.”

“I understand, Lauren. I just wonder why you didn’t simply ask for help.”

“Adults never listen to me when I just ask. Why would this time have been any different?”

…

Kaur Colony, 2351:

Sarina was surprised when a lady in gold found her under the table in the lab. Sarina had been sleeping. She’d been asleep for a very long time. She got hungry, but she couldn’t find the scientist who fed her, so she just got very tired and took a very long nap. The Lady in Gold called in a Blue Person in Blue, who was very worried about her. She didn’t know why. She was always this way.

Both of the strange adults kept trying to speak to Sarina. They apparently didn’t know that she couldn’t talk. She thought everybody knew that. All the scientists knew it. The other kids knew it. If these strangers came from far away, like they said, it would explain it. They hadn’t met her yet.

“Can you not talk, sweetie?” The Lady in Gold finally asked. Sarina shook her head.

“Is there any way that I might learn your name?”

Sarina knew her name. She couldn’t say it, but she knew what it sounded like. She also knew what it looked like. She tried to trace the letters with her finger, but she still wasn’t very good at tracing things yet. The Blue Person watched closely.

“S…A, I think…R…I…N…A.”

The Blue Person could understand her. Nobody had ever done that before. Even though it was the Blue Person that understood Sarina, the Lady in Gold was the one who talked to her.

“So, Sarina’s your name.”

Sarina nodded.

“Alright. Sarina, my friend Doctor Ch’Rraine and I are going to take you to a place where people will take care of you. Your mom…can’t look after you anymore.”

Sarina nodded, though she was a bit confused. She wasn’t exactly sure what a “mom” was. She’d never heard that word before.

…

The Institute For Genetically Engineered and Compromised People, 2352:

Most of the other children at the Institute didn’t talk either. Still, Sarina was confused by them. Some of them, even if they didn’t say words, were very loud. Some of them never seemed to move and just sat in place and stared like statues.

Sarina’s first friend was one of the big kids. He probably didn’t think he was Sarina’s friend, because he didn’t really seem to believe in friends, but Sarina liked him anyway. His name was Jack and he was already twelve years old. He was one of the kids who talked. In fact, he never seemed to stop talking. He never stopped moving either. When he had no one to really talk to, he paced around and muttered to himself.

Jack was entertaining to watch. He was always making trouble or trying to escape. He’d tell Sarina about his schemes, because she couldn’t tell anyone about them. However, some of his crazy behaviors weren’t schemes. He didn’t always plan things. Sometimes, he just got mad.

On one of his bad days, Jack got really, really mad and made a very big mistake. It started out as a normal argument with one of the counselors.

“Jack, don’t talk with your mouth full! How many times do I have to tell you?”

“You’ve told me exactly 47 times since you transferred and I remember every single time. But, I ignored you because I didn’t want to stop talking. So what if it’s hard to understand what I’m saying? You never even listen to anything I say anyway!”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true! Whenever I say I can’t do something, you say that I can. Whenever I say there’s a loud noise, you say it isn’t there. You ignore every problem I have on purpose and then you tell me that none of it’s real!”

“Jack, you’re being irrational about this. Just finish your lunch, okay?”

“Fine. Okay. I’ll finish my lunch. I’ll finish it right now. I’ll gag on it if you want. I don’t even like this type of lettuce, anyway, but before you repeat the whole ‘we all have to do things we don’t like’ speech, I’m still eating it anyway. I’d eat cyanide if it got me away from this table. There. All done. See?”

“That’s only half of the sandwich, Jack.”

Sarina had been paying attention when Jack first complained about his lunch. This same counselor had told Jack that he only needed to finish half of the sandwich. She remembered it clearly.

“You said I only had to eat half of it.”

“No, I said you had to eat all of it.”

“I have a perfect memory. If you’d said that, I’d remember it.”

“Jack, I said all of it.”

“You’re changing the rules!”

“Maybe I am, but sudden changes like this happen all the time and you need to accept that.”

“You changed the rules on purpose! That’s not sudden! Did you think I wouldn’t notice?!”

“Jack, I know you can finish your whole lunch. You have to learn-“

“Learn? You know what I’m learning right now? That the people who run this place are a bunch of rotten liars!”

“Alright. I can see we’re getting overwhelmed. You need to go sit in your room for a little while.”

“You mean you _want_ me to go to my room! The only thing I _need_ is for you to leave me alone!”

The counselor grabbed him by the wrist to lead him to his room. Sarina knew this was a big mistake. Jack was already angry. Grabbing Jack when he was angry was a bad idea. Sarina wished she had words. She could tell the counselor that she was making a mistake. Of course, Jack was right about her never listening, so maybe it didn’t really matter.

Jack got really, really, _really_ loud, but he didn’t say any words. He used his enhanced strength to escape the counselor and run away. When she chased after him, there was no one else left to watch everyone else. Not many people wanted to work at the Institute, so they sometimes didn’t have enough people to do all the jobs. Since nobody was watching, Sarina snuck away to follow Jack. She was very small and very quiet, so she knew how to sneak.

Jack wanted to escape the Institute. He went to an airlock and was trying to enter a distress code he’d memorized to call for a ship to take him away. The counselor was fast enough to follow him into the airlock. It was too small in there for him to enter the code while she was next to him. He ran out of the airlock and closed her inside to keep her from following him. Now she was entering the distress code.

Jack noticed where Sarina was hiding. He wasn’t mad at her.

“Came to watch the show, huh? Well, once I find a way out of here, I’ll take you with me. A little girl who can’t talk doesn’t stand a chance in this place. You can’t even defend yourself. Guess I’ll have to do it for you.”

He phrased it in a rude way, but Sarina knew that Jack meant that he liked her. He’d take care of her, even if he said mean things sometimes. Sarina left her hiding place to stand with him. She held his hand and he didn’t make her let go.

Sarina didn’t want Jack to get in trouble, so she hit the button on the airlock controls that had the word “open” on it, thinking it would let the counselor back inside. It turned out that “open” actually opened the other door out into space and sucked out all the air. An alarm went off and some security people came running in. Jack moved quickly to hit the button that closed the door so the counselor wouldn’t be sucked out into space, but there was still no air in the airlock. When security reached the door, they saw Jack’s hand on the controls. Jack made trouble all the time, so they thought he was the one who opened the airlock in the first place. Sarina didn’t have the words to tell the truth.

What was really weird was that Jack didn’t tell the guards that Sarina opened the airlock. He let them think it was him. They wouldn’t have believed him anyway, but he still didn’t even try to tell the truth. Sarina didn’t think the adults in this place were very fair to Jack. He made trouble, he yelled a lot, sometimes he threw things, but he wasn’t actually a bad person. A bad person wouldn’t have tried to save the counselor. A bad person wouldn’t have taken the blame for something that wasn’t his fault so someone else wouldn’t be punished for an accident. 

The counselor didn’t die. She was removed from the airlock and revived. But, she left the Institute and never came back. Sarina never saw her again. When security took Jack away, they never brought him back either. Sarina didn’t think she’d see him again. Nobody knew why she cried about this. Jack was loud and he could be a bully, so the others didn’t miss him. But, Sarina saw the good things about him. And, he was her only friend. Without him, she was all alone.

…

The Institute, 2360:

Sarina wasn’t sure why she was being moved into a place where everyone else was an adult. There were supposed to be three sections: One for children, one for teenagers, and one for adults. Sarina wasn’t even in the teenage section yet. Why was she being moved in with these people?

Sarina’s new doctor was Doctor Loews. She was mostly nice, but Sarina still didn’t really know her that well. She brought Sarina to her new room and introduced the other people there. There was one man who was almost old, but he was playing with toys anyway.

“This is Patrick.”

“Hi! Are you the new girl?”

Sarina nodded.

“Welcome! Do you want to build model ships with me?”

“Patrick, Sarina can’t talk. I’m sure she’d love to play with you, but I have to introduce her to the others first.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess I’ll see you later, Sarina.”

There was a young woman lying around on a couch, reading something on a PADD.

“Lauren, can you pay attention for a moment? I want you to meet Sarina. She’ll be staying in this wing from now on.”

Lauren looked up from her PADD.

“Really? You’re throwing a little kid in here with us?”

“She’s been selected for the same project that you have. We don’t have a separate project for children, so we have to keep her here with the rest of you. I trust you to be nice to her.”

“I’m not going to pick on a mute little girl, Doctor.”

Lastly, Doctor Loews took Sarina to one of the bedrooms. The door was shut and locked. She could hear someone muttering on the other side. Doctor Loews knocked on the door.

“Jack?”

“What do you want?”

“Could you come out here, please? The new girl I mentioned before is here.”

His name was Jack. Sarina remembered Jack. But, Jack was a very common name. It might be a different Jack. But, she could tell that the young man who came out of that door was her Jack all grown up. She could tell because he could see her, too.

“Sarina?”

Doctor Loews didn’t know.

“Do you already know each other?”

“Yeah. Before I was put in isolation and then with the teenagers, we were in the same group. Can she talk yet?”

Sarina shook her head.

“I don’t get how you can be so smart and still can’t talk.”

Sarina shrugged.

“Maybe I could teach you to talk. I’m good at talking. I like talking.”

His voice was deeper, but Jack didn’t sound any different from the last time Sarina had seen him. 

Sarina helped Patrick with his model ship and did some drawing. Actually, it was writing. She made a card for Jack. She wanted to say, “thank you”, but she didn’t have the words. Jack would understand anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this, there will be one more chapter about the Jack Pack before moving into the events of the episode Ties of Blood and Water.


	21. Desperation and Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The augments at the Institute are desperate and determined to leave their cages. Garak is desperate and determined to protect Julian from a potential foe that might not even be real. T'Pella is desperate and determined join her paternal relatives on Vulcan. Many Cardassians are desperate and determined to escape from the Dominion.

Why did they even bother to complain? There was nothing to do in this place except get in trouble. Loews often scolded Jack for being a bad influence on the others, but he wasn’t the only one who was bored. He also wasn’t the only one who had ideas. Lauren was the one who was always trying to get the staff to sleep with her. Patrick was the one who liked to play with the computers and kept hacking them.

Loews said that they should find more “constructive” things to do, but it didn’t really seem to matter what they did. On the good days, when Jack was reading and Lauren was watching holofilms and Patrick was playing his computer games and Sarina was just sitting in the corner and doing nothing, Loews still wasn’t happy with them, because they were all doing different things. Normal people could never be satisfied. Mutants could only do wrong things. If a mutant was doing it, it became wrong automatically. So, they couldn’t do anything ever.

“God, it’s so boring here!”

“Don’t bother trying to get him involved. I’m pretty sure that god abandoned us a long time ago.”

While Jack paced around, Lauren lounged on the furniture, but she was bored, too. She just didn't need to move around as much as Jack did.

“Complaining about it won’t change anything and you know it. Why don’t you all talk to each other? Have a real conversation.”

Loews enforced the boredom. They weren’t even allowed to complain. This conversation had happened before and Jack knew exactly how it was going to go: Jack would try to talk about the book he was reading and Loews would tell him to give other people a turn. Lauren would say something sexy and would be cut off for being inappropriate. Patrick would ask a random “small talk” question that he already knew the answer to, but had been taught years ago. When he got lost, he tried to stick to the script. Knowing that he already knew, Jack and Lauren wouldn’t answer. Jack would ask Patrick about whatever piece of technology he was studying at the time and Patrick would get really excited and talk and talk and talk. Jack would contribute if he had anything to say while Lauren wouldn’t really listen, but no one expected her to, since she didn’t like engineering as much as Patrick did. She preferred other branches of science. Even though they were doing what they were asked, Loews would stop Patrick from talking about something he talked about all the time, especially since Lauren "couldn't participate" and everyone would run out of things to say. Then Loews would ask why nobody was saying anything.

“Well, I’m currently re-reading the Complete Works of Shakespeare and I’ve noticed that Shakespeare’s _Richard II_ and Marlowe’s _Edward II_ have some similarities. In fact, a lot of Shakespeare’s early work resembles that of Marlowe. It deviates just enough to avoid being completely derivative, but I think it should be acknowledged that other playwrights from the era produced high-quality work that Shakespeare was clearly influenced by. I also think that-“

“Jack, let’s give someone else a turn.”

“Isn’t it odd that, despite basically being the same race, Vulcan and Romulan dicks are completely different?”

“Keep the subject matter appropriate, Lauren.”

“Jack, what’s your favorite color?”

“You already know that, Patrick. Tell me something that I don’t know. How’s that sub-molecular quantum data processor coming along?”

“It’s amazing! I’ve finally got the magnetic field aligned and the memory space is up to two hundred yottabytes!”

“Have you got the multi-spectral positronmeter set up yet?”

“Not yet. I still need to rewire the cybertronic databoard.” 

“I don’t think this is a good topic of conversation for everyone. Let’s stick to neutral subject matters that we all know the same amount about.”

“If you’re counting yourself, that’s impossible.”

“Positive attitude, Lauren.”

Silence.

“Why isn’t anyone saying anything?”

They had the same conversation every day. The rules of society outside the Institute banned the conversation from ever going anywhere, being about anything, or allowing anyone to have any fun. If no one had anything else to say, why did Jack need to give them a turn? If there were no children present, why were mature topics banned? Why couldn’t they talk about things they were actually interested in? If Lauren was upset that she couldn’t or didn’t want to follow, she could just change the subject. That’s how they did things when Loews wasn’t around.

In response to Loew’s enforced boredom and repetition of meaningless attempts at conversation, Jack started a riot. He used every good insult he could think of. He’d never admit that Lauren was better at that game than he was. Patrick backed them both up to the best of his ability, though he was terrible at insulting people. He was the nice one. Sarina, unable to contribute verbally, banged on the wall to make some sort of sound. She just wanted to be included. The chaos got everyone sent to their own rooms to “cool down”. Jack didn’t even mind. He had his PADDs, with all his books on them.

Today, something happened on Jack’s main PADD that’d never happened before: He had a message. It was text, no audio or video and it was written in an alternative alphabet used to spell out every sound in every Human language.

tu hum ɪt meɪ kənsəɹn:

ðə t͡ʃif mɛdɪkəl ɑfəsəɹ ʌv dip speɪs naɪn, dɑktəɹ d͡ʒuliən bəʃiɹ, hæz ɹisəntli ɹəvild hɪz stætəs æz ən ɔgmɛnt. hi wɪʃɪz tu ɪntəɹvju hɪz fɛloʊ ɔgmɛnts tu tɛst ə θiɹi əbaʊt ðə mɛntəl saɪd əfɛkts ʌv ɔgmɛnteɪʃən. hi bəlivz ðæt ðeɪ maɪt bi sɪmptəmz ʌv tɹɔmə, nɑt ʌv ðə pɹəsiʒəɹ ɪtsɛlf.

So, one mutant had an idea to get mutants out of their cages. However, whoever was writing on his behalf, wrote to Jack, instead of to the Institute doctors, and made a lazy attempt to disguise the message with a different alphabet, apparently aware that Jack would be able to easily decipher it. Maybe the point wasn’t even to disguise the message at all, just to get Jack’s attention with a puzzle.

However this turned out, Jack had to thank this Julian Bashir for giving him a potential future.

…

Garak had arranged meetings with two people he considered advisors on various subjects. The first was the one he’d put in charge of contacting the augments. She was his psychological expert.

“Did you get a response from Mr. Johnson?”

“He seems interested, but he’s concerned about the Institute intercepting the messages.”

“I have no doubt that they will. But, they must be tired of ‘dealing with’ these chaotic people, and we’ve offered them a chance to be rid of them. If they’re sane, they won’t need to remain under their care.”

“Then why contact one of the augments instead of contacting the Institute directly?”

“The augments will not trust the Institute sending strangers to work with them. If it’s their decision, they’re more likely to be honest and cooperate with us.”

“I’ll contact Sirsa and Vara. It will be some time before Julian and I will be able to conduct the interviews, since traveling anywhere has become exceedingly difficult, as of late. But, a change of surroundings, being around people won’t demonize them, would help get them into a better mindset to discuss traumatic experiences. Before they’re asked to just talk about them, proper counseling will prepare them for it. If we can’t convince the Institute to transfer them to us, but they themselves are interested, Vara can handle it.”

“Can your people handle it without blame being pointed towards Julian or myself?”

“We’re willing to take the fall for it if we must.”

“Thank you, Counselor.”

“It’s no trouble. Trapisans like to help those that the Federation left behind.

…

_Starfleet Academy, 2358:_

_“I have been reading your history…Very impressive. But then again, it should be, shouldn’t it?”_

_“Who the hell are you? And what do you want?”_

_“Go on…tell me what it is you’re hiding…no one will ever know, I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.”_

_“You’re out of your mind.”_

…

Julian awoke for a dream that felt like a nightmare, but he really wasn’t sure. With his genetic status out in the open, he found that he was starting to remember things, not just from Adigeon Prime or his life before that, but other things as well. He hadn’t forgotten about them, but he also hadn’t thought about them in quite a long while. He’d met someone once, back at the Academy, who seemed to know that he had a secret. Perhaps he already knew it and the meeting was some sort of test. What for, he couldn’t say. He knew nothing about the man who’d approached him. He never said his name. If Julian had been a few years younger, it would’ve been like a stranger approaching him in the park, trying to lure an innocent boy into something dangerous. 

At the time, Julian was more confused than anything else, but now he wondered if that man knew about his enhancements. Had some stranger known about him for years? Who was that man? Why was he thinking about him now, when he hadn’t done so for years?

Julian felt Elim’s hand on his shoulder. He must’ve sensed that he was awake.

“I’m not surprised that your rest is uneasy, my dear. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know how to explain. I just remembered something that happened around fifteen years ago.”

“Relevant to your enhancements?”

“I think so. I’d just turned seventeen, in my first year at the Academy. I graduated from high school two years early. I was outside, working on my physical education program on the training field, when a strange man approached me. He was fairly young, but too old to be a student. He was about as old then as I am now. Light brown hair, blue eyes, plain, like someone who could blend in anywhere.”

“Are you hoping to created a ‘wanted’ poster?”

“Maybe those details don’t matter.”

“And I can assume that this man was Human?”

“Yes. The Academy’s on Earth, so most of us are.”

“And since you said that this is relevant to your enhancements, I’m guessing that this man knew about them.”

“He knew that I had some sort of secret. He’d been reading my records. He wasn’t in a Starfleet uniform, so I had no idea why. He just appeared out of nowhere and asked me to tell him my secret. If he’d been following me so closely, I can’t help but wonder if he already knew and just wanted to hear me admit it. Tain read my records. He noticed the jump in my grades between first and second grade. He knew to search for evidence of genetic enhancements from there. Perhaps this man did the same. Maybe he was wearing a recording device and wanted to have a record of me admitting it for blackmail purposes, though that would lead to the question of why he’d want to blackmail me. He could’ve been trying to blackmail my parents, but they was nothing special about them worth blackmailing them over.”

“Are you worried that you might run into this man again?”

“It seems unlikely. I really hope I don’t.”

“If you do run into him again, it’ll most likely be because he’s continued viewing your records over the past fifteen years.”

“Then I definitely don’t want to meet him again!”

“If you do, and he’s as dangerous as your previous encounter implies, you might not be able to prevent me from killing him.”

“If I _am_ being followed around by someone that dangerous, you can handle the situation however you like.”

…

Garak’s second meeting would’ve been more of an interrogation if his subject hadn’t been so cooperative. T’Pella Varak didn’t seem to be particularly loyal to any agency she supposedly worked for. In theory, she was supposed to be a member of the Tal Shiar, but her Vulcan heritage had led her to turn towards the Federation. She wasn’t employed by Starfleet, as far as Garak could tell, but she was assigned to spy on the Tal Shiar by whoever recruited her.

“I was on a mission and some people from the Federation took me prisoner. I was wounded, so the ship’s doctor patched me up. She didn’t know a whole lot about patching up Romulans, so she did some scans, took some blood samples, and found out that I was half-Vulcan. She vouched for me, said she’d help be get Federation citizenship, if I wanted it. I always hated Romulus, so I took her up on the offer. But, not many Federation officials are going to take in a member of the Tal Shiar, even if she was half-Vulcan, so that didn’t work out. I was stuck in a brig as a prisoner of war. If I were any good at being a Romulan, I would’ve killed myself when I was taken prisoner, but I didn’t want to die. I was a coward, I guess.”

“It’s not cowardly to want to live. If you’d been loyal to Romulus, you’d have wanted to escape, return to your people, do your duty. That’s understandable.”

“Maybe to a Cardassian.”

“People often compare our peoples, but they often neglect these sorts of subtle differences. Now, please continue. What happened after you failed to gain citizenship?”

“Someone, a Human, found me and said he could get me Federation citizenship if I went back to Romulus and kept tabs of the Tal Shiar. But, that’s all over now. When the Dominion locked me up, he didn’t forget about me, but he didn’t help me either. I contacted him when I first came to the station, but the bastard still won’t hold up his end of the bargain. I’m getting a new assignment. He wants me to stay here and keep track of some people, but I’m not going to do it. He might try to have me killed, but I don’t care anymore.”

“Would you perhaps consider taking an assignment from me if I can make you a better offer?”

“It depends on what you think a better offer would be.”

“I know someone who could get you passage to Vulcan and I can track down members of your father’s family who might help you gain citizenship. But, my friend will only do it for a price. I might be able to pay that price, if you help me first.”

“Do I have your word?”

“You have my word.”

“If you let me down, I’ll kill you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from a former agent of the Tal Shiar.”

“Good. What’s the job?”

“Your man sent you back to the Tal Shiar to spy on them. Now, I’m sending you back to spy on him. I’d do it myself, but I don’t know this man’s identity and I doubt you’re going to tell me that. I also doubt that you’ll tell me who he asked you to keep track of.”

“You’re Obsidian Order, aren’t you? You should know how to get a person to talk.”

“But your training is just as good as mine. You know just as well how to resist interrogation.”

“And your boyfriend wouldn’t like it.”

“No, he would not.”

“You’re worried about him. That’s why you’re doing this, right?”

“Should I be worried?”

“I’ll just say that you’re not the only spy keeping a close eye on him. But, if you stick to your word, I’ll make sure he can’t do any more than look.”

Even with T’Pella’s reassurance, Garak checked his quarters for monitoring devices and wasn’t satisfied until he’d searched the entire area three times and found nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dialogue in Julian's flashback/nightmare was lifted directly from The Nexus, a play that Alexander Siddig and Andrew Robinson wrote together about their characters. A transcription of the whole play can be found here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/143qdkbvOWCMoO5Q3A41kr8f_fxTP3jH-asV01eY666I/edit
> 
> Also, if you can't read the message that Jack received:
> 
> "To Whom It May Concern:
> 
> The Chief Medical Officer of Deep Space Nine, Doctor Julian Bashir, has recently revealed his status as an augment. He wishes to interview his fellow augments to test a theory about the mental side effects of augmentation. He believes that they might be symptoms of trauma, not of the procedure itself."


	22. The Purrhim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The station is flooded with Cardassian refugees who'd rather not be part of the Dominion. Kira and Iliana want to form a proper resistance movement out of this and believe that Tekeny Ghemor should lead it. But, Tekeny's in very poor health and can't leave Trapis IV, so Kira, Iliana, and the various Cardassians and associates that they believe might be good leaders if Tekeny dies all have to come to him instead.

There was so much going on that Julian couldn’t keep up with it all. Elim had told him not to worry. He was working with Counselor Razha to help the augments and he was doing his own research to find out who that man Julian met at the Academy might’ve been. He just had to focus on his work as a doctor.

The infirmary was busier than normal. The station’s population had risen since Cardassia joined the Dominion. It wasn’t a very popular decision among common Cardassians and many of them were fleeing Cardassian space. Several people were involved in a conspiracy of sorts to help as many people as possible. Pythas Lok and Alon Ghemor were both among them, so he actually heard from them from time to time. Alon would often have more personal messages for Iliana, who liked to hear from her cousin. He’d also delivered a message from a third Ghemor, Tekeny, reporting that the Trapisans were voting on whether or not to begin accepting refugees fleeing the Dominion. They were also still voting on how to react to the Dominion in general. Their voting system, when there were more than two options, was based on process of elimination and the only thing they knew they definitely _weren’t_ going to do was join the Dominion.

The Bajorans on the station weren’t happy with the Cardassian refugees. Many Starfleet officers suspected some of them of being Dominion spies or assassins. Julian didn’t understand how they could see mothers, traveling alone with their small children, unable to rescue their husbands from the military, begging to be allowed on to the station, and suspect them of being a hidden threat.

Most of Julian’s patients were Cardassian refugees. Some of them were attacked on the way to the station. Others were attacked by people on the station, the victims of hate crimes that were becoming disturbingly common. Julian understood that it was a difficult situation. The Cardassian Occupation of Bajor was brutal and the entire planet was traumatized, but it was the Cardassian military that’d occupied the planet. It was soldiers who’d done the killing. These families weren’t military people. They’d been told that Central Command had the right to conquer and destroy Bajor, but he couldn’t blame them for being lied to. Cardassia was guilty, but these Cardassians were innocent.

Lishar, a boy of only six, was certainly innocent. He’d tried to break up a fight between some Bajoran and Cardassian children, but as another Cardassian child, the Bajorans turned on him instead. His mother, Asa, brought him to the infirmary when he came home to their shared guest quarters with a bloody nose and a heavily bruised chufa.

“Isn’t there a Cardassian doctor working here?”

“Yes, but he’s with another patient. I’m very sorry.”

“I suppose you’ll have to do. I’ve heard good things about you, anyway.”

Lishar was easily healed, though there was a slight break in his chufa that took a bit longer to fix. The fact that he was even familiar with the skeletal structure impressed the Cardassians. He didn’t mention that it was something Kelas had taught him only a week prior, when a refugee who recognized Elim attacked him. At least the station Bajorans seemed used to him.

When not repairing injuries from racially-motivated violence, Julian spent a lot of time in the wing of the habitat ring that was used to house refugees until Starfleet decided what to do about them. It was terribly crowded, with whole families sharing quarters meant for a single person and multiple families sharing the larger family quarters. People who’d traveled alone slept in the hallway. Julian had asked about providing more space for them. Many Bajorans were returning to Bajor due to the increasing likelihood of the station being attacked, leaving larger portions of the habitat ring unoccupied, but Captain Sisko worried that Cardassians in these areas would fight with, attack, or be attacked by their Bajoran neighbors. They’d been confined to a sort of ghetto for their own safety.

Julian visited this Cardassian ghetto at least twice a day to find people who were ill or injured and reluctant to leave the hall to seek medical attention. He also made sure the children were up to date on their vaccinations. Some common diseases among Cardassians were quite contagious and could infect other species as well. The last thing they needed at the moment was an epidemic. 

Narin and Mursa lived in this same area, which was why it became the designated Cardassian wing. Their quarters had become a makeshift orphanage for children who’d lost their parents on the way to the station, or who’d been sent away while their parents stayed on Cardassia. The floor was covered in replicated sleeping bags.

Mursa and Julian were the chosen diplomats of the area, two people with no Cardassian blood who were completely accepted by Cardassians, due to joining Cardassian families, Mursa through adoption, and Julian through his relationship with Elim. They treated Julian and Elim like a married couple, or at least most of them assumed that they’d become one soon. Elim himself rarely visited the Cardassian wing, knowing that he wasn’t popular among his own people. Julian didn’t think he actually had that much to worry about. They were all Cardassians opposed to the Dominion. They were seen as equally traitorous on Cardassia Prime.

Julian was surprised to find that Kira was a major ally when it came to helping the Cardassians. It was mostly related to her connection to the Ghemor family. Iliana was still on the station and the fact that the two women shared Kira’s memories meant that they could discuss things with each other that no one else was allowed to hear. Iliana had accepted Kira as another daughter of Tekeny and she was accepted as part of what was left of the Kira family. Like Mursa and Ziyal, they were of two worlds. Mursa had started calling herself Loral Mursa Devar, and this inspired Tora Ziyal Dukat and Kira Iliana Ghemor to make a few appearances as well.

It was Kira who invited both Julian and Elim to join her, Mursa, and some of the more prominent station Cardassians to travel to Trapis IV with them to meet with Tekeny.

“He’s exactly what we need to start a Cardassian resistance against the Dominion! We could set up a government in exile right here on the station. It would have to be here, since I doubt the Trapisans would want to make themselves a target.”

“Then why don’t we have him come to the station?”

“I tried to invite him. He said that he was in poor health and would prefer it if I came to him.”

“If he’s in such poor health, are you sure he’ll be able to lead this Cardassian resistance?”

“That’s why I’m bringing all these people along. If he can’t lead the movement, I want him to decide who will. That’s the next best thing.”

“Who are all your candidates for this?”

“Narin, Garak, Parmak, Iliana, and Ziyal. Narin has taken charge of the refugees on the station, Garak’s a known rival of Dukat with Obsidian Order training, Parmak’s spent years fighting for a better Cardassia, Iliana’s Tekeny’s daughter, and Ziyal, as Dukat’s daughter, knows the enemy.”

“And all these people agreed to participate in this.”

“Parmak and Ziyal were both a bit reluctant, but they both want to do something useful. If you’re wondering why I want you to come along, it’s for Garak’s sake. Tekeny sees Garak as someone motivated by pragmatism and self-interest. He doesn’t know that that’s not the case anymore. I’ve been around you two enough to be convinced that you’ve had some positive influence on him, and I want Tekeny to see that. Also, Garak won’t go if you don’t go with him.”

“Alright. If Elim wants to do this, I don’t see why not. Trapis IV is a lovely planet. I mean, there’s not much sunlight, it rains constantly, the wind never stops, and there's the occasional solar flare, but the people are very kind. Well, they are most of the time. I think they prefer Bajorans to Humans, so I doubt you’ll have any trouble. And then there’s-“

“-Julian. I don’t need a lecture right now.”

“Right. Sorry. What I’m trying to say is that I’d like to consider this a bit of a vacation.”

“Well, you probably need one. If we can get this work done, you can feel free to do whatever you want with the rest of your time there.”

Within 52 hours, Julian, Elim, Kira, Iliana, Kelas, Narin, Mursa, Ziyal, and Jake were all crowded into a runabout. The Trapis system was still on lockdown, but they made exceptions for people they considered allies. After spending time on the planet, Julian, Elim, and Iliana were all considered allies and the people who traveled with them were also trusted. They also reported that Jack Johnson, Patrick Lincoln, Sarina Douglas, and Lauren Williams had all been transferred to the same hospital that Julian and Elim had stayed at during their time on the planet.

The trip was long. In fact, it was too long for the runabout. At warp 5, the maximum warp for a ship of its size, the full trip would’ve taken nearly four months. Even the nearest starbase was about a month away. The Trapisans were sending one of their own ships, but they didn’t want to travel all the way to Deep Space Nine. After a lot of arguing, with the Trapisans not wanted to send a ship too close to where the Dominion was mobilizing and not wanting to land on or go into the orbit of a Federation planet, they decided to meet them halfway on Mizar, a neutral planet. The trip on the runabout was still almost two months, but the second half of the trip would be much quicker.

Of course, keeping Elim sane on a small runabout for two months was impossible. They managed to get to another planet, Regulon, after sixteen days and stopped to rest there. They sent a call to the Trapisans to come and get them before they all went insane. To make matters even worse, they were a traveling party of mainly Cardassians on a planet with a Maquis colony.

They were lucky that the Trapisan ship, the _Purrhim_ , had already arrived at Mizar. The journey from there to Regulon was three days at maximum warp. The Cardassians and company were beamed up to near darkness, the room only lit up by the screens of the equipment and a soft light coming from the transporter pad. The travelers were beamed up four at a time, with Kelas offering to come last after the others. The room started to feel very crowded with the nine of them and four other people working on screens on the other side of the room.

“Which one of you is the Transporter Chief?”

“What is that?” asked one of them.

“Julian, did you actually bother to learn anything about Trapisan social structure when you were there?” Kira asked.

“I learned about everyday life on the planet, but nothing about starships. They rarely leave their own star system. It never came up.”

The person who’d spoken to them before stood up and went over to them.

“Follow me, please.”

No greeting, no introduction. Julian knew that that was normal for Trapisans. They had no words for “hello” or “goodbye” in their language. They ended conversations by saying “end” and walking away.

They followed the Trapisan down a hallway to what appeared to be the bridge. It was another dark room lit only by screens. A man, well he appeared to be male, who’d been sitting at the front of the room in front of a larger viewscreen, stood up and went over to them.

“My apologies for all the inconvenience we caused you. If it’s any consolation, I was in the minority that voted to collect you from Deep Space Nine directly. My name is Xhun. I’ll show you to the guest quarters.”

There was no room to respond, only to follow. They were led through a maze of dark hallways that ended at a short hallway that was more decently lit than anywhere else they’d been so far. The light was still dim, and had a strange, red tint to it, but it was enough to see by. There were four guest quarters. Jake and Ziyal immediately went into one room together. Narin and Mursa went into another. Kira and Iliana went into the third. Lastly, Julian and Elim entered the remaining room with Kelas tagging along with them, due to the uneven number.

The quarters were lit like the hallway. Virtually everything was in one room, with only the toilet and sink in a separate chamber. There was a covered pit between the two beds with a button next to it that could be stepped on to remove the cover, revealing that it was filled with warm water. There was a viewscreen on the wall across from the beds that was controlled by a remote that was left lying on one of them. Julian and Elim settled down on that bed and discovered that the viewscreen was like the televisions that were popular on Earth in the 20th and 21st centuries. The remote accessed several channels: a news broadcast, what appeared to be a movie of some sort, and footage of a river with soft music playing. Cardassians still had these sorts of screens in their homes with a single channel broadcasting propaganda, so Elim was less confused by the thing than Julian was. But, he found other things to be confused about.

“These signals are usually broadcast via satellite or cable networks. I wonder how they’re managed to pick up any sort of signal out in space.”

“Maybe these shows are just pre-recorded on datarods.”

“Running three different programs at once? I can understand having news access, but what are these other programs for?”

“Entertainment, most likely.”

Elim remained focused on the viewscreen while Julian went over to the replicator. It didn’t respond to voice commands. Upon closer inspection, Julian discovered that there was a screen and buttons to cycle through pictures of various foods and beverages with their names in the Trapisan alphabet printed below. The replicators at the hospital had been more like what Julian was used to, so this was a surprise to him. The options were all Trapisan, something that Elim wouldn’t be happy about.

It took a long time for everyone to find something they wanted to eat. Julian recognized several things he liked from his stay at the hospital, but it seemed that Trapisan food wasn’t compatible with Cardassian preferences. To Julian, most of it tasted like junk food. It was enjoyable, but it felt unhealthy. Tricorder analysis contradicted this perception, however. Djar tea was mostly sugar, but it had the same sort of nutrients one would expect from a fruit or vegetable. Lókót porridge had a surprising amount of iron in it.

Julian, Elim, and Kelas went to sleep shortly after eating. There was little else to do on this strange, little ship. At least, Julian didn’t think that there was much to do, because he still didn’t understand how most of the technology worked, or even what half of it was supposed to do. At least it wouldn’t be long before the ship arrived on a planet and interesting things would begin to happen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to use a warp travel time calculator and multiple maps to figure out how long the trip between DS9 and Trapis would be, and despite them being pretty close, it still ended up being a long journey, hence a subplot about simply getting to the planet.
> 
> And yes, like many places in the Star Trek Universe, the Trapis system is based on a real star system, so I can use the other systems based on real star systems to place it on the map. The Trapis system is the TRAPPIST-1 system. Trapis IV is TRAPPIST-1e, one of the most potentially Earth-like planets that have been discovered. Taking Trappist and knocking a few letters off to get Trapis was really lazy naming, but it's easy to remember.


	23. One By Blood, One By Circumstance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kira and Iliana meet with Tekeny and find out that he's dying. To make matters worse, Dukat plans to visit Trapis IV.
> 
> Meanwhile, Julian has difficulty getting the augments to talk to him, while Elim manages to get one of them to.

The trip to Trapis IV at maximum warp took ten days. Julian spent most of his time learning the Trapisan language from the untranslated news and movie broadcasts. The Trapisans weren’t particularly interested in their passengers, so they kept to themselves. The journey felt far longer than it actually was, but it was better than spending four months in a runabout.

All in all, Julian’s vacation wasn’t exactly off to a good start. 

When they finally reached the planet, after waiting for the ship to land instead of beaming down, Ruvara, one of the friends Julian and Elim had made during their time at the hospital, was there to greet them.

“I assume that the journey here was unpleasant. You look exhausted.”

“We are, but we’d like to see Tekeny Ghemor before we settle down to rest.”

“Actually, before you can do that, some other Human guests of ours wish to speak to you. They specified that it was you and Elim that they wished to see, so I suppose that everyone else can go to see Tekeny now. He was quite eager to see his daughters again, according to my sources.”

“Daughters? As in more than one?” Iliana, Tekeny’s only child, asked.

“He has bonded with the Kira named Nerys and he’s taken to seeing both Iliana and Nerys as his two children.”

Everyone had suspected that, but this was the first time it was confirmed out loud.

…

Iliana and Nerys were the only ones allowed to see Tekeny at first. Iliana still felt strange calling him “father” when Nerys didn’t do the same. Iliana remembered Tekeny Ghemor being her father, but she also remembered Kira Taban as her father. Most of those memories were sad, but she preferred the memories she shared with Nerys to the ones that she didn’t, after their shared timeline split.

Iliana didn’t want to think about that, but she always did. Every time she woke up on the station, she didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to see that prison cell on Letau, where she was kept separately from everyone else. Dukat had his own little hideaway there, and whenever he was upset about something, he’d retreat to it, to Iliana, drugged and helpless, going by the name of Kira Nerys, the one Dukat really wanted to hurt. But, he’d made some promise that he wouldn’t hurt the real Nerys. He respected her and her family, so he had to hurt someone else instead. He had two minds about Nerys, he wanted to love her and he wanted to hurt her. He wanted to control her, resented that he couldn’t, but was also impressed by her strong will. He wanted to break her, make her love him and hate him the same way he loved and hated her. But, Nerys would never give in to him. Iliana hadn’t given in either. She hated him, but she didn’t love him. She just hated him even more than before. 

It didn’t matter. Iliana was never meant to be Nerys. With the real Nerys, Dukat expressed his respect. All the hate, all the anger, all the resentment went to Iliana. Iliana used to hate Nerys for not taking the punishment, leaving her stuck with all of the worst parts. Nerys told her that Dukat said he hurt Iliana so that he wouldn’t hurt Nerys and Nerys was disturbed by it. She hated Dukat for that, too.

Iliana struggled to keep Dukat out of her thoughts. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t important right now. Right now, she was here to see her father, a man she still sometimes thought of as Tekeny, someone familiar, but not a relative. It wasn’t his fault. He loved her. He never stopped searching for her. He thought she was on Bajor and kept searching there, when she was actually far closer to Cardassia. He just made a mistake. He made a mistake, but he loved her. She wasn’t sure if anyone else did, but she was sure that he did.

Tekeny, Father, was in a hospital bed. The lights were dim. Trapisans didn’t use much light. It gave them headaches. Even Cardassians liked a bit more light than Trapisans did, and Cardassian light wasn’t so red. Trapisans liked red light because their sun was red. Humans liked really bright light because their sun was big and yellow. Cardassia was somewhere in between. Most class M planets had yellow suns. Bajor did. It was just like Earth. It was very hard for planets to have life around red stars, but the Trapis system was very lucky. Trapis IV was the only real Class M planet. Trapis VI could also be lived on, but life never evolved there by itself because the planet was completely frozen. Trapis V used to have a very thick atmosphere. It was made of steam and the oceans boiled, though they didn’t evaporate. The sky was cold and they came back down as rain and boiled again. But, technology had changed the atmosphere, so the planet was safe to live on. It had been one big ocean, but they built artificial land. Now there was one big city in the middle of the ocean.

Iliana thought of simple things, suns and planets and oceans, to not think about Dukat. The counselors had taught her that before she ran away. It worked sometimes, but it made it hard to focus.

“Iliana…Iliana, is that you?”

Father’s voice, calling her name. Iliana could focus now.

“Yes, Father. Nerys is here, too.”

“I’m glad you came. Both of you. I only wish I had the energy to get out of bed and spend some proper time with you, but I’m beyond that now.”

“You said you were sick. How bad is it?”

“I have Yarim Fel Syndrome. It’s terminal. I’m dying.”

…

Garak was not in a good mood. Though he respected the Trapisans, he wasn’t particularly fond of their home planet, or their lack of manners when they were on their own territory. They refused to refer to anyone by their family name, and Garak preferred to be Garak with anyone he wasn’t close to. He tolerated being Elim with close friends, and he actually liked hearing Julian say it, but he barely knew anyone on Trapis IV and he felt that they were overstepping their boundaries.

After dealing with all of that, meeting more Humans, who were willing to use his family name, was a relief. Of course, that was the only thing about these Humans that could be described as such. Garak couldn’t blame them for it, they were mentally ill, they’d been isolated from other people and didn’t really know how to behave around them, but their antics were a little bit irritating. Ms. Williams seemed unable to control her sexual impulses and kept making advances on both him and Julian. Mr. Johnson was quite hostile towards anyone he didn’t know well, and even towards the people he did on occasion. The other two were easier to get along with, with Mr. Lincoln being a complete innocent and Ms. Douglas being completely silent and not attracting attention to herself, but that didn’t make them any easier to make any sort of connection with.

“So, Mr. Lincoln-“

“-I’m Patrick!”

“Patrick, how do you like Trapis IV?”

“It’s better than the Institute. The food’s better. See this? This is djar and it’s mostly just sugar and water with no weird flavors or spices in it or anything!”

“I’m glad that you’re getting along well here.”

“We’re all feeling a lot better than before. Well, Jack isn’t, but he’s never happy and he doesn’t like anybody.”

“Not even you and your friends?”

“Hmm…I don’t know. He yells a lot, and he says mean things sometimes, but Sarina says he’s secretly really nice. He just doesn’t know how to act nice, because most people aren’t very nice to him.”

“Sarina told you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I wasn’t aware that she could speak.”

“We talk with our PADDs, silly! Sarina knows words, she just can’t say them. She can type them though, and she can send that to people. We talk all the time, even though we’re not supposed to.”

“You’re not allowed to speak to one another?”

“No, we’re supposed to speak to one another. That’s the problem. If we can see each other’s faces and hear each other’s voices, we have to use our words. It’s the rule. It’s not really fair though, because they try to get Sarina to talk, but nothing works, so she just has to sit in the corner and do nothing while we’re all talking. It’s so sad!”

“It is. Are there a lot of rules like that?”

“Yeah. It’s supposed to be good for us. We can learn not to act like mutants or whatever and then maybe they’ll let us go. It makes Jack really mad, but Lauren says that’s just the way things are, but then Jack says that they don’t have to be that way, and then they argue a lot.”

Interviewing Patrick turned out to be very helpful. He spoke like a child and children, before they’re taught to lie, tend to tell the truth without any attempt at tact. That raw honesty was something so unlike what Garak had ever known, something he would think was a serious character flaw, but Patrick’s raw truth would probably serve his people better than a good Cardassian lie.

…

While Iliana continued to talk to her father, explaining why they’d brought so many people with them, Nerys had to answer a subspace call from Captain Sisko. The news was not good. Gul Dukat had contacted the station, asking about the Cardassian refugees and about Tekeny Ghemor. He wanted them all returned to Cardassia Prime. He claimed that the refugees were in no legal trouble, but it was clear that Tekeny was. Sisko naturally refused to help Dukat. The refugees had applied for asylum on the station and Tekeny was under the care of the Trapisans, not the Federation. Dukat clearly already knew about Tekeny’s whereabouts, because he was on the way to Trapis IV, accompanied by a Dominion ambassador. The Dominion had yet to visit the Trapis system and they wanted to learn more about the Trapisans. All in all, what Julian had called a vacation was getting more and more unpleasant.

Nerys went back to the Ghemors to report.

“Dukat called Deep Space Nine. He wants you extradited to Cardassia and he’s coming here to see that you are.”

Nerys didn’t miss the flash of panic in Iliana’s eyes. Tekeny, however, seemed resigned to his fate.

“I’m not surprised. He knows as long as I’m still alive, I’m a threat to him.”

“We’re not going to let him get his hands you.”

“I’ll kill him for you, Father.”

“I don’t want to be the cause of any political assassinations on this planet, Iliana. They’ve been far too kind to me. But, I will make sure he pays for what he’s done. Listen, both of you. I know more about the Cardassian government than anyone alive. Names, alliances, plots. Things that could do a lot of good, in the right hands.”

Iliana seemed to understand what her father was getting at. She turned to Nerys to explain.

“There’s a Cardassian tradition called Shri-tal. The dying give their secrets to their family, to use against their enemies.”

Tekeny nodded.

“Be my daughters, one by blood, the other by circumstance. Hear what I know…and use it as you see fit.”

…

Julian was exhausted. He’d tried to make a connection with his fellow augments, but it was harder than he thought it would be. No matter what his genetic status was, he was still a member of Starfleet, as far as they were concerned, and they weren’t comfortable with him. Counselor Sirísa had made more progress with them than Julian did, but she wasn’t sharing what they told her. They wouldn’t trust her otherwise.

Even Elim was more successful than Julian was. He’d gotten Patrick to talk to him, telling him quite a bit about how the Institute had treated him and the others. They’d tried to teach them rules for getting along in society, but they were too strict and they felt like they could never do what they were told. He’d also explained that Jack, despite volunteering to be there, was usually defensive towards everyone outside of his social circle.

Despite his exhaustion, Julian had to stay awake for a while longer than he’d planned to, as both Kira and Iliana had a lot to say about how their meeting with Tekeny Ghemor went.

“Shri-tal…So, that must be why Tain just started listing off enemies to Elim before he died.”

Iliana was scandalized.

“You were in the room? Non-Cardassians aren’t supposed to be present when Cardassians die!”

“Tain didn’t know I was there and Elim lied to him and said he was alone. If he wanted me to leave, I certainly would’ve, but Elim wanted me to stay.”

“As an act of disrespect towards his father, no doubt.”

Elim corrected her.

“No. I wanted Julian to see him die. He needed to see that he was dead and no longer a threat to him.”

“Iliana, you’re not related to Dukat, but I’m sure you’d want to see him die.”

“At least I’m Cardassian!”

“Shri-tal is for family only.”

“And Julian is closer to being Tain’s family than you are to Dukat.”

Julian realized that that was another reason why Elim wanted him there. Elim was inviting Julian to be part of his family, in a sense. It was almost like a marriage proposal. They’d definitely have to discuss that in private later.

However, it would have to wait. If this really was a vacation, it would be a perfect time for Julian and Elim to discuss their shared future, but there was too much work to be done. Julian and Elim had the augments to worry about. Kira and Iliana had Tekeny’s shri-tal to attend to, as well as finding some way to bring Kelas and Narin into it. Jake and Ziyal were actually treating this like a vacation, as was Mursa, who’d befriended two local children. Julian hoped that the vacation wouldn’t be ruined for those young enough to afford it.


	24. Water of the Womb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tekeny begins his shri-tal, Jake and Ziyal discuss family, and Mursa makes some new friends while exploring Trapis IV a bit more before it becomes the backdrop for the events about to unfold.

“If Tekeny’s pain gets too severe, push this button. It’ll administer a small dose of a painkiller similar to triptacedrine. If you need to replenish the medication-“

“We’ve got it.”

Iliana hoped that Nerys wasn’t skipping over important instructions. As far as she could tell, she was eager to get this over with. That was fair. Being with a dying person couldn’t be easy. Iliana wanted this to last as long as possible, however. She wanted her father to be alive. She’d barely gotten a chance to see him again after spending eleven years in Dukat’s prison.

Rinku, the Trapisan doctor handling Tekeny’s case, stepped out. She looked even younger than Bashir, which made Iliana doubt her skill. It was said that Trapisan medical science was ahead of both Cardassia and the Federation, but she didn’t know enough about medicine to know whether that was true or false. Even if they were that advanced, Iliana doubted that they knew much about Cardassian diseases. They really should’ve asked Kelas to come in as a consultant.

Her father was clearly in pain. His condition was getting worse.

“Father…”

“Iliana…”

He tried to sit up to look at her, but the pain sent him back. Nerys settled him back down.

“Don’t try to move.”

“Mouth’s dry.”

Nerys found the water dispenser and Iliana helped her father drink. There was a lot of fumbling and spilling. Tekeny didn’t seem to care very much.

“Maybe we should get started.”

“Session One, Stardate 50712.5”

Shri-tal was supposed to be a private matter. Iliana didn’t know that Nerys intended to record her father’s death for future reference.

“If you must take notes, can’t you just write them down on a PADD?”

“It’s alright, Iliana. I expected her to do this, actually. If it’s for a good cause, I can handle a slight break from tradition.”

“And the cause is the death of Dukat, right?”

“The cause is saving Cardassia, but the death of Dukat is a part of that.”

“Alright. As long as Dukat dies, I’m fine. Go ahead and start.”

“Dukat’s most powerful enemy is probably Gul Trepar, the head of the Fourth Order. He…”

A wave of pain hit him.

“What’s wrong?” Nerys asked as if it wasn’t obvious. Iliana just pressed the button for the painkiller.

“Nerys, ask the doctor to give him something stronger.”

“Anything stronger and I’d be unconscious…And you and I and Nerys have a lot to talk about. Where were we?”

“Trepar.”

“Trepar. Trepar used to outrank Dukat and he’s not happy to be taking orders from one of his former subordinates. Trepar’s aide is a man named Glinn Borven. He’s a political opportunist with all the loyalty of a hungry vole.”

Iliana noticed that Nerys didn't appear to be listening. Maybe that's why she wanted to record it.

…

The lake appeared a sort of burnt orange in the eternal twilight of the Lókótó Region of Trapis IV. Despite the howling wind and the heartbeats of the djar trees, a hybrid of plant and animal, it felt peaceful on the beach. Ziyal rested her head on Jake’s shoulder as they enjoyed the view together.

“You know, on a beach on Earth at sunset, the ocean would probably look almost just like this.”

“Maybe the water would, but look at the sky.”

The sky was always just dark enough for the stars to be visible, as well as the other planets in the Trapis system, which were close enough to resemble six moons.

“Okay, there’s nothing quite like that on Earth. It’s a bit strange. Bajor and Cardassia have multiple moons and Trapis has all these planets, but Earth only has its one moon.”

“And Vulcan doesn’t have any at all. Every world’s different. And they’re all beautiful.”

“Aren’t you going to sketch any of this while you’re here? If it's all so beautiful, you should make a record of it, in your own way.”

“I haven’t been feeling like drawing recently.”

“Artist’s block?”

“With all this inspiration around? No, that’s not it. I have ideas. I just don’t feel motivated.”

“Are you upset about your dad coming here?”

Ziyal didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Jake knew. She’d told him about Batare. It was hard for him to understand. His father hated her father and he’d always thought of him as a bad person. Captain Sisko was very different from Ziyal’s father. He didn’t treat his family like his soldiers, giving commands and expecting complete obedience. He was actually sort of the opposite. He treated the people under his command like family. 

“Ziyal, it’s going to be alright, okay? You don’t have to be alone with him.”

“He’s more of a threat to you than he is to me. It’s not that I’m afraid. I feel…guilty. He’s my father. I love him, but I also know that he’s a bad person. I feel guilty for thinking of my own father as a bad person, but I also feel guilty for loving him, even though he is a bad person.”

“You know, you don’t have to see him as your father if he hasn’t earned that kind of respect.”

“I can’t turn my back on my family. It’s not the Cardassian way. It’s not the Bajoran way. It’s not even the Human way. You’re the ones who say that 'blood is thicker than water'.”

“Actually, that’s not the whole saying. Most people think it is, but it isn’t. The full saying is ‘the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb’. That means that the people you choose to be close to are more important than the ones you’re born close to. I might still be close to my dad, but it’s not just because he’s my dad. It’s because he’s a good dad and he’s been there for me and I choose to be his family. But, not everyone has good parents or gets along with their birth family very well. That’s when it becomes really important. For example, if Julian had to choose between his parents and Garak, which do you think he would choose?”

“Garak and Julian are in love. Lovers can marry and become family.”

“Alright. What if it was his parents or Chief O’Brien? Would he choose his family over his best friend?”

“Probably not. And Garak would definitely choose Narin and Mursa over any of his real relatives that I know of.”

“And Major Kira is just as much Tekeny Ghemor’s daughter as Iliana is. Do you get it? You don’t have to be Dukat’s daughter if you don’t want to be.”

“But then whose daughter would I be?”

“I don’t know. Who feels like a dad to you?”

…

“So you and Loréna are actually half-siblings then?”

“No. We’re third-siblings. Loréna and I have the same mother, but we have different fathers and bhesals.”

“Bhesals?”

“The mother makes the egg, the father fertilizes it, and the bhesal takes them both and gives birth later. I’m guessing you’re from one of those species where the mother and bhesal are always the same person.”

“You’re a bit like Andorians then. They have two types of men though.”

“We have lots of types of those. Men, women, none of that really translates well. Every Trapisan is a combination of two out of three, though some are just one, because their two are actually the same. You have bin, qhok, and pher. Some people are resbin, resqhok, and respher, so they’re just one, while others are binqhok, binpher, qhokbin, qhokpher, pherbin, and pherqhok, combinations of two out of three.”

“How do you tell them all apart?”

“Unless we’re trying to make a baby, we don’t.”

“Which one are you?”

“That’s a very personal question!”

Mursa had made a friend. Kjannhan was around her age, maybe a little bit older. He had a little third-sister named Loréna who followed him everywhere. Mursa guessed that she was around nine years old, but there was really no way to tell. It was interesting to see a place where basic things about people, their ages and genders, were so hard to figure out.

“Wait. People call Trapisans him and her all the time. How do they know which one to use?”

“When we learn Standard, we get to pick. Resqhok, qhokbin, and qhokpher tend to be him, resbin, respher, binpher, and pherbin tend to be her, and everyone else varies. Some are him, some are her, some are they. A few that would normally be him or her choose to be they instead. The gendered pronouns are only there for convenience.”

“I’ve been thinking of you as a him. Is that correct?”

“Yeah. One of my two is qhok and it fits. Loréna is a her.”

Kjannhan had been explaining a lot of things to Mursa. He liked to talk. Mursa liked to listen, so she was okay with him talking a lot. Loréna didn’t talk quite as much, but she was much younger than the other two, so she probably didn’t have much to say to them.

Mursa and her new friends were walking around the public garden, looking at all sorts of flowers and other plants while they talked. Mursa remembered that when she was very little, she loved trees more than anything else. Trapis IV had very weird trees. Her favorite was the kite tree, which had leaves that caught the wind like kites. Sometimes, heavy leaves would break off and fly across the sky by themselves.

Then there was a very loud noise, louder than the wind and the djar trees. Kjannhan closed his normal eyes and opened the other ones on the sides of his head. He grabbed Loréna by the wrist and they took off running. Mursa followed.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s a ship threatening to attack the planet. We’ve got to get underground.”

Almost everything was underground and there were little houses everywhere that contained staircases and elevators to get there. There was one right next to the public garden, so they were in no real danger. Underground, people moved quickly, but they weren’t running. They weren’t panicking. Things from the sky tried to kill these people all the time and they were not afraid of them anymore. But, people still bumped into each other. They weren’t looking straight ahead. They were searching for people. Parents were looking for their children and children were looking for their parents.

Mursa began to look for her father. She followed her friends as they all looked for their parents. Kjannhan spotted his father off in the distance and ran towards him, briefly asking Mursa to stay with Loréna until she found one of her parents. They found Mursa’s father first. He was right by the election hall, which is where Mursa thought he would be.

“Mursa! Thank the Prophets!”

“Father! Father, this is Loréna and she’s my friend. She hasn’t found her parents yet.”

“Bhesal!” Loréna called out. A woman who was leaving the election hall came running. Ruvara was with her.

“There you are! Where have you been?”

“Public garden. This is Mursa.”

“Mursa Devar? Your father’s been discussing the Cardassian refugee crisis with us and he’s mentioned you a few times. My name is Laezala. I know you’ve already met my wife, Ruvara.”

“Bhesal married Vara after Mother died and Father decided to see other people.” Loréna explained.

“It’s complicated, I admit. But, it’s not very important right now. What is important right now is that there’s a Dominion warship locking its weapons on us.”

Mursa didn’t need to be told that this was Dukat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 24 Chapters in and someone finally explains the title...
> 
> I know it's a weird choice for it to be Jake of all people, but a Human saying had to have a Human explaining it, there were only two Humans on the planet to explain it, and it didn't sound like something Julian would know about. Jake's a writer, so maybe he knows some famous sayings from that.
> 
> Anyway, Incoming Dukat!


	25. A Complicated Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tekeny's shri-tal continues, despite Dukat showing up to annoy everyone. Weyoun begins to wonder if it was really a good idea to put him in charge of anything. Dukat's taunting of Iliana pushes her to a breaking point and she tells Ziyal everything she knows about him personally. Ziyal continues to learn things about her father that she struggles to process.
> 
> CW: Some references are made to Dukat's various crimes, especially those against Iliana and various Bajoran women. This means a few references to sexual assault, though none of it is graphic. Because these next few chapters have Dukat as the main antagonist, he's going to do a lot of terrible things, though none of it will be described graphically and it won't include any sexual assault.

“They won’t just destroy us before taking what they want. Éskan, send out a communication signal. I think I can handle this.”

“Done.”

A pause.

“They’re responding. I’ll put them onscreen.”

A Cardassian man appeared on the viewscreen. He was easy to tell apart from the other Cardassians that Ruvara had previously seen. He resembled what she thought was the Cardassian ideal of masculinity. That meant that he was quite intimidating. Something about it was inherently obnoxious. 

“You are Gul Dukat, yes?”

“That’s right.”

“May I ask why you’re pointing weapons at our planet?”

“We want Tekeny Ghemor extradited to Cardassia. We know that you have him and that you’ll be reluctant to surrender him. We thought you would need some further persuasion.”

“By ‘we’, do you mean yourself, or do you speak for the Dominion?”

“Why does that matter?”

“If it’s the Dominion that wants Tekeny, then I’d rather speak to a representative of the Dominion. You might represent Cardassia within the Dominion, but Cardassia holds little diplomatic power.”

“We’re equal partners.”

“I don’t believe you. Is there a Founder onboard that we can speak with?”

“We have a Vorta.”

“Close enough. If we’re going to negotiate with the Dominion, I suppose they’re the ones to speak to. Tell your Vorta friend to beam down so that we may discuss this privately.”

Ruvara knew that the guests now probably believed that she was willing to surrender Tekeny to them. She wasn’t, but the Dominion wouldn’t be willing to talk if they knew that. Her plan worked. The election hall’s transporter picked up on two life signals and one of them manifested into a Vorta. The other was Dukat, who’d come along without permission. Éskan had to acknowledge both signals to avoid committing murder or causing some strange transporter accident.

“Thank you for the kind invitation, Trapisan. I’m not familiar with your political structure, so may I ask what your title is?”

“My name is Ruvara. Trapisans do not believe in permanent hierarchies. We do not use titles.”

“How…eccentric. Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter at the moment. This is the Dominion advisor you requested: Weyoun.”

“Weyoun? According to the information the Federation as provided regarding the Dominion, the Vorta Weyoun is dead. Is Weyoun a common name among Vorta?”

“In a way, yes.” Weyoun replied. He allowed Dukat to explain what he meant.

“The Vorta are experts at cloning.”

“It tends to mitigate the risk involved in so much of our work. The Weyoun you’ve heard of was the fourth incarnation of our noble progenitor. I am the fifth.”

“What happened to the first three?”

“That’s not relevant to what we’re here to discuss. Shall we continue this conversation somewhere a little less crowded?”

“Very well, as long as the crowd agrees.”

Ruvara turned to face the people sitting in the auditorium of the election hall.

“I’m afraid that we don’t have the time to do this properly, but I propose that as an interstellar political advisor, I should act as a representative of Trapisan interests for the duration of this conflict. Are there any other candidates?”

Silence.

“Then I suppose it’s settled. I suggest that everyone return to their homes or at least remain underground for the time-being.”

Laezala, a moderator, agreed with her suggestions, as did the general public. The council was dismissed and Ruvara escorted Dukat, Weyoun, Julian, Nerys, and Narin to a meeting room. Julian, the only mature member of a Federation species present, had to act as a representative of Federation interests. Nerys represented Bajoran interests and Narin represented the interests of Cardassians not aligned with the Dominion. The other potential candidates declined. Loréna followed the party out of curiosity.

“Vara, I wanna watch.”

“Well, Trapisans need to learn more about interstellar politics and that includes the children. You may observe and listen, but you must observe with your eyes and ears and thoughts, not with your words and actions.”

Some of the guests seemed rather confused by this decision, with the exception of the Cardassians.

“Cardassian parents often allow their children to observe them at work for educational purposes.” Dukat explained.

“There are reports of a Gul allowing his daughter to watch the interrogation of a Starfleet Captain.” Julian said, getting it now.

The expressions on the faces of Dukat and Narin implied that this anonymous Gul was unpopular. However, the incident wasn’t discussed any further. Instead, Dukat got down to business.

“I’ll make it simple. Tekeny Ghemor’s not a well man, and he’d be better off under the care of his own people. We want him to know he can come home.”

“The journey between Trapis IV and Cardassia Prime at maximum warp is twelve Federation stardate days. There’s no way he’d survive the journey even if this wasn’t just a set-up for execution.”

“This is not a set-up for execution at all. Ghemor’s case has been reviewed by the new judicial system, and he’s been cleared of any wrongdoing. There’s no reason Ghemor can’t return to Cardassia.”

“With the exception of the one I just gave you. You’re motivation isn’t charity for a dying man and everyone in this room knows it. If you don’t intend to execute him, which would honestly be a waste of time, considering that you’ll be rid of him in a few days anyway, there must be some other political motivation. What is your reason for wanting to silence Tekeny Ghemor that badly?”

Cardassians were very indirect in their speech, so Dukat wasn’t prepared to answer a direct question in the Trapisan way. He clearly came to lie, but he didn’t understand the people he was lying to. Ruvara wondered why the man was allowed to represent Cardassian interests to the rest of the galaxy if he was so uninformed.

“We don’t want to silence him. We simply believe that he’d be better off spending his last days among his own kind.”

“He’s among his own kind. As of right now, there are five other Cardassians on this planet, his own daughter among them. He’s as comfortable as we can make him and his family is beside him. I doubt he wants anything more.”

Weyoun spoke up at this.

“Perhaps we should find out.”

…

Weyoun was beginning to wonder if Dukat was the ideal Cardassian representative he’d been advertised as. It made sense in the beginning: Dukat was experienced in battle and in politics and he had the support of many Cardassians. He would never accuse the Founders of being neglectful in their research, but it seemed like they weren’t aware of his temperament. He wasn’t easy to control and he’d made more enemies than friends and he seemed determined to keep making more of the former than the latter. He seemed reckless, emotionally unstable at times. He didn’t know what to do if he didn’t get his own way, if people didn’t believe his lies, or if they refused him. Further research suggested that these problems were apparent as far back as the Occupation of Bajor. He tried to present himself to the Bajorans as a kinder alternative to the other dictators they’d faced, but that didn’t make them surrender to him, or give him any of the respect or loyalty he felt entitled to. He responded to this with brutality that only confirmed Bajoran suspicions of his motives. 

This entitlement problem carried on into his personal life. It was a major issue with women. He’d make a big show of chivalry to impress some frightened Bajoran girl, but if she didn’t show any romantic interest in him despite that, he’d lash out at her. It had become a problem with his family life. He made a public display of being willing to lose everything for his daughter’s sake, but when she didn’t show him complete obedience and formed attachments to people he considered to be enemies, he disowned her.

It was blatantly obvious that Tekeny Ghemor, a dying man who most likely didn’t want to travel, would refuse Dukat’s kind offer.

“I’ll always love Cardassia. It’s where I belong. It’s where I’d be this very moment if you hadn’t betrayed our people to the Dominion. But, since you have, I’m afraid there isn’t really a Cardassia to return to. Good day, Dukat.”

“He doesn’t seem to like you very much. We are going to have to do something about your public image.”

The Founders had presented Dukat as someone with a very good public image. Perhaps they meant that it was Weyoun’s job to provide him with one. 

…

Iliana had stepped out to tell Rinku about her father’s condition. She said that he probably had one more Trapisan year, about a week on any other planet, to live. When she returned Dukat was in the room. Nerys and her father were arguing with him.

“You have your answer.”

“I plan to stay here for a few days, for what would be days on a stable planet, anyway.”

“Just in case you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

Iliana had expected to feel anger when she saw Dukat again. She expected the rage necessary to kill him. Instead, she was paralyzed with fear. She remembered what the sight of this man meant. She remembered pain, humiliation, longing for death. She’d tried to kill herself many times, but he insisted that she be kept alive, just so he could torture her, just so that his hidden madness had an outlet. 

She remembered when he lost Terok Nor. He nearly killed her and then went to have a pleasant chat with the station’s new commander. 

Then his scheme to take down Kotan Pa’Dar failed, because of Garak and his “Federation whore”, as Dukat called him, even though he couldn’t confirm that they were lovers until a year later. That was the time when Garak humiliated him in some other way, but he was laughing, because he knew his enemy’s weakness. Iliana had expected the Human to end up in another one of Dukat’s cells, a prize stolen from his rival to be broken and ruined, but that didn’t happen. Doctor Parmak had first shown up around that time and said that he’d given the Human, another doctor named Bashir, to the Obsidian Order.

Dukat’s scheme failed, because he and Enabran Tain had different goals. Dukat wanted “that whore” obliterated. He would’ve killed him, or at least mutilated him, tortured him into madness. But, Tain just wanted to regain control of his former protege and he kept Bashir relatively intact to use him as leverage, primarily damaging him emotionally to show Garak what he was capable of.

Kelas said that normally, Dukat did to Iliana what he couldn’t do to the real Nerys. But, that time, it was probably Bashir that he was thinking of. She decided not to ever mention that in front of him.

It didn’t take long for Dukat to notice Iliana’s fear. He didn’t see her as any sort of threat, even though he must’ve known how much she wanted to kill him. He knew she couldn’t. 

“Miss Ghemor. It’s been a while. You look well, though I personally believe you looked better as a Bajoran. That soft skin suits you.”

“Dukat…”

“What’s the matter? Have I rendered you speechless?”

“Please, go away.”

“So, you’re here for your father’s shri-tal. I’m sure he has many interesting secrets to tell you, though I think some of them should remain secret. I’m sure you can figure out which ones I’m referring to.”

“And if we disagree on those matters? It’s not like you can actually do anything to stop me now.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I’ve always found a way with you.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to drug me this time.”

“I doubt that I’ll need to. You’re a rare case, you know. Most of the women I’ve grown close to were much more cooperative.”

“I’m only a rare case because you’re only interested in women you can conquer. Perhaps you think that’s what will happen with the Dominion. Perhaps you’ve taken an interest in Vorta girls. Are there Vorta girls? You would know.”

“I’m not an idiot. I did what I had to do to save Cardassia.”

“You did what you had to do to save your own ego! You lost Bajor, but then you became a hero, got promoted to legate, were finally a success. But, you sacrificed it all. You thought you were being noble. With Nerys as a witness, you decided to openly acknowledge Ziyal as your daughter, even if it cost you everything. You acted like you didn’t care as long as you had her, but that was a lie. You wanted your power back and you were willing to sell Cardassia into slavery to get it. It’s not going to work, Dukat. You’re not their equal. Once again, you’ll have to face the fact that you’re not going to get everything you want.”

“Are you sure about that? I’m the ruler of Cardassia, I have the respect of my men and a growing army to take back everything I’ve lost. And, even though we’ve had our disagreements, I still have Ziyal. She’ll always come back to me. I’m her father.”

“But, if she knew about all the people you really hurt, and that you’re not really sorry about any of it, would she forgive you?”

Iliana walked away without waiting for a response. She was going to answer her own question.

…

Ziyal knew that her father was a bad person. She’d seen him do bad things. But, sometimes she thought she was was exaggerating minor bits of bad behavior. Lirbul Batare wasn’t forced to sleep with her father. She chose to do it to get close to him so she could kill him. As far as Ziyal knew, most of her father’s Bajoran mistresses were women he’d taken under his protection. The mark of the Prefect of Bajor himself would guarantee that a women wouldn’t be harassed by anyone else. Most of the women he was with took the offer to protect themselves and their families. It was manipulative, but was it truly evil?

And yet, when her friends told her stories about even worse things her father did, she wasn’t surprised, only disappointed.

It began with Iliana Ghemor running into Ziyal’s quarters. Ziyal could immediately guess that it had something to do with her father, but she didn’t have time to wonder what it was before Iliana screamed it at her.

“Your father thinks you’ll forgive him for anything. Apparently, he’s told you about all the Bajorans he had executed, some of them he knew to be innocent, just to frighten members of the Bajoran Resistance. He told you about the labor camps he sent people to, where they were worked to death, or tortured to death, or sometimes even buried alive. But, he said he was sorry, didn’t he? He told you about how much he loved the Bajoran people, how much he loved your mother. He confessed all of his crimes to you, knowing you’d pardon him.”

“Has my father been bothering you, Iliana? I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t understand why you’re here, yelling at me, when you should be with your own father.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know why. Dukat talked to me and you were mentioned and I just felt that I had to speak to you. You should know what I know about him. You’d know what to do with the information better than I could. This isn’t my father’s information. This is what I know personally. I know what happened to me.”

It was far worse than what happened to Batare. Iliana was kept in a cell, completely isolated except for the warden of the prison. Then, Dukat would come along. Whenever he was angry, he’d come to her. She was drugged and helpless and he’d torture her the way he wanted to torture his enemies. 

“There’s something uniquely wrong with him. When things don’t go his way, when he can’t have what he wants, it’s like a child’s tantrum, but with an adult’s control. He has to hurt someone. It’s like a drug for him. But, he can’t hurt his family. He’d have to face the consequences. On Terok Nor, the Bajoran women who refused him were easy targets. After them, there was me. After I ‘disappeared’, things were a bit better on Terok Nor, from what I've been told. Dukat still chased Bajoran women, but if they refused him, he let them go. Instead, he came to me. When he tried to have Garak killed and it failed, he came to me. When he lost Terok Nor, he came to me and nearly beat me to death.”

Iliana was a surrogate for Nerys, but it seemed like she could be a surrogate for anybody. When women wouldn’t sleep with him, he raped Iliana in their place. When he couldn’t beat a rival, he beat Iliana instead.

Batare made a choice. Iliana didn’t.

Ziyal knew that there were others. Before Dukat had Iliana, there were other women. He didn’t keep them for as long. He had to dispose of them and replace them frequently. How many were there? What about before Terok Nor? Did he have those same problems back then? How long had he been like this?

Now that Dukat no longer had Iliana, who was he using now?

…

Narin was beginning to wonder if there was really any point to him being there. He helped out with little things when he could, but there really wasn’t that much that he could do. Elim and Julian were working with the Augments and they’d drafted Kelas into helping them. Iliana and Nerys spent all their time with Tekeny Ghemor. Mursa had made friends and she was off with them most of the time. She was growing up, reaching the age where she’d rather go off with other young people than spend time with her father. As for Jake Sisko and Ziyal, he still felt as though he barely knew them. Ziyal was friends with Mursa, but she’d rarely spoken to Narin. When he tried to speak to her, she didn't listen. Most young people have little interest in their friends’ parents.

But, when Narin walked past Ziyal’s quarters and heard her crying, he had to check on her.

Ziyal was lying on her bed facedown, trying to muffle her sobs with a pillow. Young Sisko sat next to her on the bed with a hand on her shoulder, a Human gesture of emotional support that was somewhat awkward for most Cardassians, though Ziyal wasn’t reacting as if it bothered her at all.

“What happened?”

“Iliana happened.” Jake explained, though it didn’t really explain much of anything.

“What did Iliana do?”

“He told Ziyal about a bunch of messed-up stuff her dad did.”

Ziyal sat up, still sniffling, but in the process of regaining composure.

“It had to happen sooner or later. I’m not mad, not at Iliana, at least. What happened to her…What my own father did to her…I knew he did lots of bad things. He killed a lot of people. He had people tortured. He used women like Batare, though he didn’t hurt them badly. Batare wasn’t hurt. It’s…It’s just so hard to understand! He loved my mother. He loved me. He loved his father and was heartbroken when he died. How could someone like that be capable of what he did to Iliana?”

“Dukat is a complicated man. Not in a moral sense, it’s clear that he’s a monster, but he’s not the most straightforward monster out there. I don’t know if he’s truly capable of love, but he might be. The hardest part about it is that it doesn’t change anything. When he loves someone enough not to hurt them, he hurts someone else instead.”

“So, when I was really little, and I misbehaved, even though he said he wasn’t mad at me, and he didn’t punish me severely, he just went and punished someone else instead?”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ziyal. It was his choice and you didn’t know.”

“Was that what Mursa’s mom was for? You told me about her. I didn’t really react at the time. I didn’t think you or Mursa were lying, but I still just couldn’t believe that my father could be like that. I didn’t want to believe it.”

“I understood your confusion. You saw a brave man who rescued you from a prison camp and brought you to Cardassia, acknowledging you publicly as his daughter even though it cost him everything.”

“And then he got mad at me, too. When Cardassia joined the Dominion, he wanted me to come back with him, but I wanted to wait for Garak. I saw this look in his eyes that I saw when I was Batare, but he never looked at me like that. That’s when I knew I could never go back with him.”

“You made the right decision.”

“Did I? Now that he’s lost Iliana, who did he punish when I refused to go with him?”

“I don’t know. I’m far from an expert on Dukat. I never worked for him or spent much time around him. He was my brother’s friend, but I avoided my brother whenever I could. I only know about Perin because Toras told me.”

“Maybe I should pretend to forgive him. I could find out who his latest victims are and protect them.”

“That’s very noble of you, Ziyal, but it’s unwise. No matter what, someone will get hurt, so you might as well not let it be you.”

“But if I’m the one he’s mad at, then it’s only fair, isn’t it?”

“You don’t deserve to suffer because his ego is so easily shattered.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know.”

…

It was late. Well, Kira thought it was late. There was no way to tell on a planet with no day or night. The sky always seemed to be halfway between the two. “Night” was when most people decided to sleep. Iliana was among those people. She’d been exhausted by her encounter with Dukat and her conversations with Ziyal, and later with Narin, after he found Ziyal crying and had to patch things up. Kira was equally exhausted, but she couldn’t sleep. She’d been having nightmares, flashbacks to the death of her own father, and she’d been trying to avoid them. She knew that being with Tekeny, a father figure, as he died was triggering these memories to resurface. She still wanted to run from death. With Iliana around, why did she have to be Tekeny’s daughter, too? Wasn’t one daughter enough? 

Wasn’t losing one father enough?

Kira’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was an old-fashioned door, opened by twisting a knob and locked with a key, a flat card that currently sat on a nearby shelf. She had to get up to answer the door. She thought it might be Rinku or Ruvara with some report about Tekeny. Unfortunately, it was Dukat. Kira had a feeling that he wasn’t supposed to be here. Had he really been given guest quarters on the planet? Why didn’t they make the bastard sleep on his ship?

“Major. Sorry to disturb you.”

“Sorry enough to leave?”

“I’ll be brief.”

“If you’re anything but, I’ll scream.”

“I wouldn’t dare threaten your dignity by making you do so. Now, your defense of Ghemor is admirable, but did it ever occur to you that you might be fighting the wrong battle? Do you recall the massacre at the Kiessa Monastery?”

She did. It happened before Kira was born, but everyone knew. Tekeny was a member of the Cardassian military and certainly old enough to have been serving during the massacre. She knew what Dukat was implying, but why should she believe him?

“What’s that got to do with Ghemor?”

Dukat placed a PADD in her hand. So, he had evidence. He was trying to cause a rift between her and Tekeny. It was probably going to work. But, even if Tekeny had been involved in an infamous massacre and never thought to tell Kira about it, a good reason to let the man die without her company, he still had Iliana. Someone would be there for the shri-tal and he wouldn’t die alone. Maybe, just this once, she’d let Dukat have what he wanted. Though, denying Dukat the pleasure was a good enough reason to resist.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“I have to admit, I get a certain perverse pleasure out of it. Read it or not. It’s up to you.”

And she was going to. But, she couldn’t let Dukat leave the room completely satisfied either. Below the shelf with the room’s key card was a small table. On that small table was an empty cup, a ceramic mug for djar. It was just a small, Trapisan teacup. As a projectile, it made a glorious shattering sound when thrown against hard Cardassian armor.

“I promise you, Dukat, I’m going to make you pay for this one day.”

Dukat shrugging off the broken pottery as if it was nothing. It still didn’t look as dignified as he thought it did.

“Maybe. But not today.”

Dukat finally left. Kira locked the door and sat down to read. She knew that she wouldn’t be getting any sleep either way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally gained access to Star Trek novels and have read Fearful Symmetry and plan to read A Stitch in Time next. The various beta canon references will hopefully improve and become less vague as I obtain more context for them.


	26. Gebur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dukat is, as expected, up to no good and Ruvara has her own way of dealing with it. Ziyal confronts her father for the last time and it's just enough to send him into an inevitable downward spiral.
> 
> CW: Dukat plays a prominent role in the chapter and completely loses it by the end. Ziyal brings up her Batare experience. There is violence against a child, but it's "offscreen".

Iliana knew why Nerys was acting so coldly. The sound of shattering pottery woke Iliana up the night before. She saw Dukat there and pretended to be asleep to avoid attracting his attention. When he left, Kira returned to bed with a PADD. When she fell asleep while reading it, Iliana looked at it. It was all about her father. There was a list of soldiers assigned to Kiessa Monastery. Iliana once heard Gul Darhe’el tell her father that he’d failed to learn from Kiessa. He’d been there, just out of school. Whatever he’d been taught, he’d believed it without question and he did his duty, whether it was just or not.

It was impossible to get Nerys to see reason. She didn’t want to. When Kira Nerys made up her mind, almost nothing could change it. Iliana remembered that. Iliana still thought that it was needlessly cruel for Nerys to bother to show up at her father’s bedside, just to act coldly toward him and confront him over something that happened decades ago. Why couldn’t she let him die in peace? She passive-aggressively antagonized him until he finally asked what he’d done wrong.

“You lied to me.”

“About what?”

“About everything. But let’s start with Kiessa Monastery. You were there, weren’t you?”

“Dukat told you.”

“The Cardassian army burned Kiessa to the ground. Seventeen monks were killed.”

“They were hiding weapons for the Resistance. Weapons that were being used to kill my friends. It was war. It was easy to despise you. But you weren’t the monsters. We were. I wish I had never joined the military, never volunteered for duty on Bajor. But I did. And I can’t change that, no matter how much I might want to.”

“So instead you hid the truth from me.”

“If the subject never came up, he had no reason to tell you.” Iliana tried to do damage control but she was ignored.

“I didn’t want you to hate me.”

“It’s what you deserve.”

Nerys finally stormed off, Tekeny calling after her. Iliana stayed at her father’s side, but she didn’t plan to let Nerys get away with this.

…

“Read this.”

“What? Why?”

“Lirbul Batare. Odo found her whole life story. Dukat found Tekeny’s military records and I said I’d make him pay for it. He’s not the only one who can make information into a weapon. You’re the one who wants to know about Batare. Also, there’s some stuff about your mother. I never got a chance to really know mine, but you should get a chance to know yours. She doesn’t sound like a bad person. She had a streak of bad luck and terrible taste in men, but she wasn’t cruel. She never actively helped the Cardassians during the Occupation, so she wasn’t a true collaborator. She just fell for the wrong man.”

Mursa saw Ziyal storming out of her quarters. She left her door unlocked, so it was easy to find the PADD she’d been reading. It was the story of Lirbul Batare, Tora Naprem, and Gul Dukat. Mursa could guess from the PADD and Ziyal’s mood that she was going to confront Dukat over it. She shouldn’t do that. Gul Dukat was extremely dangerous. Mursa would only ever talk to him if Father or Garak were around. Nerys also knew how to fight him, but he liked seeing her too much and Mursa didn’t want to be around for that.

Mursa knew that she had to get help so Ziyal didn’t get into trouble. Father would help, but Ziyal would listen to Garak better. So, Mursa went to the hospital where he was working. Julian and Kelas were there, too. They were talking to four other adults who were all a bit strange. There was a man who wouldn’t stop talking and a woman who didn’t talk at all. There was an older man working on some type of toy starship. Lastly, there was a women who really wanted to Julian to like him and kept standing a bit too close.

“Hey, wait, when did a little kid get in here?”

The talkative man noticed Mursa first.

“She’s a kid, but I don’t think she’s that little.”

The woman close to Julian just argued with the man.

“Hi. I’m Patrick. What’s your name? Wanna help me with this engine?”

“Patrick, she’s probably here on some sort of business.”

“Here on some sort of business. Some sort of business, what sort of business? What’s your business kid? Hm, hm, hm?”

“I came to see Garak. One of my friends is in trouble and I need his help.”

“Aw yes! Garak! He’s more likely to cause trouble than help with it, if you ask me, but you didn’t, so I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

Garak wasn’t in the room, but Julian was finally able to get a word in.

“Mursa? What’s the matter?”

“Ziyal went to talk to Dukat by herself. She’s really mad at him.”

“Was Jake with her?”

“I didn’t see him, but it would be even less safe for him.”

The talkative man continued to talk.

“Jake. That’s Captain Sisko’s son, right? Yeah, he really shouldn’t be there. It’s basic Cardassian social politics. Sisko is Dukat’s enemy and the families of the enemy are never safe around them. I understand your dilemma. Garak’s a good choice for an ally here. The enemy of the enemy is a friend and Garak’s another one of Dukat’s enemies, right?”

Julian left the room in search of Garak. Kelas was still around, but Mursa didn’t need a babysitter. The augments weren’t scary. They made sense. Mursa sometimes talked to much and sometimes not enough. Sometimes she just didn’t say the right things. These people were all like that, but a little bit more. Mursa wasn’t sure why everyone else was so confused by them. They were easier to understand than most people. Being a little bit more made them more obvious.

…

Ruvara found herself growing a bit fond of Weyoun. He seemed so innocent compared to the company he kept. He was genuinely interested in learning the rules of Gebur, a popular Trapisan game that Kjannhan volunteered to teach him.

“So, now I pick a card?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Gebur is about five choices. You can pick one card or the other, but you can also pick both, pick neither, or take a third option from the deck.”

It was a simple card game, but it taught one to consider all of their options in any given situation. Players had to look for every possible solution to whatever problem they encountered. The rules were simple, but the strategy, the mindset necessary to be good at it, could take a lifetime to master. Weyoun took the more dramatic option of picking both cards. He wanted to take as much as possible, a fitting mindset for a conqueror. He was lucky. Both cards matched two he already had in his hand. He rejoiced in his victory, either unaware that his success was based purely on luck, or indifferent to it.

“I win! I won, right?”

“You won this round. Not bad for a first try.”

Dukat watched with disapproval. Cardassian adults were the sort to believe that games were inherently childish, rather than something necessary to keep the mind sharp. He understood physical exercise and training to stay in shape. Some of those exercises took the form of games. Gebur was a sport for the mind, something that more serious, disciplined peoples couldn’t understand.

“I don’t see why you insist on playing this ridiculous game.”

“I like games.”

It was a bad sign that a representative of the Dominion could understand the value of Trapisan games. Unfortunately, Ruvara had to ignore him for a moment. There was more important business to discuss. The diplomatic talks had been going poorly, only Ruvara, Laezala, Dukat, Weyoun, and Loréna even bothered to attend. Loréna was only interested because Mursa had been teaching both her and Kjannhan various spy techniques and she was observing the meetings and reporting back to them as practice. It was actually pretty amusing. But, after the most recent meeting, Loréna gave her report to her instead of Mursa.

“Dukat’s got some kind of Cardassian drink that he mixed a powder into. I don’t know what it was, but he didn’t drink it, so I doubt it was added for the flavor. I followed him and Weyoun out of the meeting and I saw him to it. He’s gonna send it to Tekeny.”

“He most likely knows better than to drink it. Still, a politician with poison is a major security risk.”

“Got a plan?”

“Hmm…I don’t want a big confrontation. I’ll make it seem like something casual. I’ll invite Dukat and Weyoun to the game center as an act of hospitality. Perhaps you should ask one of your friends to keep Weyoun busy while I handle Dukat. He shouldn’t be able to access anyone in the Ghemor family, anyway. We’re only pretending to ignore his history of violence.

Now, it was time to bring up the poisoning. They’d have to obtain the poisoned beverage and test it before they could truly call it poisoned. The best way to do this was to allow it to be delivered to the hospital, but have Rinku alerted not to let the delivery go through and to test the liquids contents. That was already in progress, but Ruvara wanted to make sure that she knew where Dukat was and what he was doing until they knew the truth.

“Not interested in the games, Dukat?”

“I don’t play games.”

“So you have a serious personality.”

“You could say that.”

“It’s a bit disappointing, really. Serious people are often lacking in creativity.”

“You do not get to be a gul without knowing how to be creative when necessary.”

“Then why don’t you play a quick round of Gebur to show everyone just how creative you can be? We’ve never had the chance to witness Cardassian disciplines in action.”

The man had an ego. The easiest way to control him was to make that ego into a leash and lead him around with it.

“I’m not quite familiar with the rules.”

“Take eight cards. Your goal is to discard your hand by collecting cards that pair with it. If the signs on the cards match, it’s a pair. On your turn, the dealer will choose two cards that they believe are useless to you, but they have no real way of knowing, so either card could be useful. You can take only one of the two cards, you can take both, you can draw a random card from the deck, or you can take nothing. If you draw a card that doesn’t match any in your hand, you add it to your hand and have to wait for a match to discard that card as well. The first player to discard their hand wins. Simple enough.”

“Very simple.”

“Then draw your hand.”

Kjannhan continued to act as the dealer with Ruvara, Weyoun, and Dukat as three players. Ruvara played cautiously to begin with, passing on her turn to see what other cards would be in play. On his first turn, Weyoun decided not to take a risk. He picked a single card, which happened to match one in his hand. Dukat took both and neither was a match. The game went on. Ruvara did reasonably well, though he luck wasn’t the best, and a lot of luck was involved in Gebur. Weyoun’s luck began to run out, but his strategy improved and he began to take the lead. Dukat had rotten luck, alternating being taking both and the third option and rarely ever getting a match. Ruvara could tell that he was beginning to get angry, making his decisions even more reckless. A lot about a person could be revealed through a game of Gebur, not just through how they played, but how they reacted to their wins and losses.

When Weyoun won the round, Dukat demanded a rematch. He had no interest in the game until he was challenged. Now he simply had to win. He played better during the rematch and his luck improved. Weyoun didn’t do as well, so it was down to Dukat and Ruvara. They were both down to a single card, just looking for one more match. Dukat took both options, a major risk for a final play. In fact, all it did was extend the game. If one card matched your one card, you’d still have to hold onto the new card that didn’t. That move wasn’t a move to win, only to spite the other players. Neither card was a match. Ruvara decided to pick one card on her turn. She could’ve drawn from the deck, but she had a good feeling about one of the options. It was a match.

“Whoa. That was lucky. You were down to the wire there.” Kjannhan said, impressed but not like he’d witnessed a miracle. Random moments of good luck weren’t abnormal in Gebur. Dukat didn’t lose his temper, but there was venom in his voice when he spoke.

“I thought the dealer was supposed to choose cards he believed the player didn’t have.”

“I did. I was wrong.”

“Strange. You clearly know each other well. It should’ve been easy to figure out what she didn’t have.”

“If you’re implying that I rigged it, that’s not true!”

“It would make sense to ensure victory for a family friend.”

“It would be an insult to rig the game for anyone. It would mean you thought they couldn’t play.”

“It’s only a game, Dukat. I’m glad it was a close one. It’s more interesting that way.”

“You’re very calm. You’ve been strangely composed throughout this entire game. Trapisans are rarely like that.”

“And now you’re accusing me of some sort of dishonesty. It’s a very creative approach, I’ll admit.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve never seen a strategy quite like it. When most people would accept defeat, you’re still looking for a way to win by implying that the results were unfair. Is this how you usually handle defeat? You find a ‘creative’ way to convert it into victory. It’s like if someone wanted someone else to keep a secret, but that someone else was determined to reveal what he knows, and the first person, desperate to keep him quiet, resorted to more dishonest means of silencing. For example, he might’ve tried to have the man poisoned. If the man was already sick and dying, nobody would question it if he took a sudden turn for the worst, would they?”

“What exactly are you implying?”

“That you might not be above sending a poisoned Cardassian drink to Tekeny Ghemor in hopes of speeding up his inevitable death.”

“You’re coming dangerously close to accusing the head of the Cardassian government of attempted murder.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. I simply didn’t want to make a scene out of it, so I tried my hand at Cardassian indirectness. I passed on my turn and waited to see have you played the game. Then, once I had a good feeling for what to do, I made a choice. Rinku is testing the drink you sent to Tekeny for poisons as we speak. I know you’ve done some things that you don’t want others to hear about, but now you’ve done something else, given yourself another secret to keep. Was it really worth it, Dukat?”

It took too long for Dukat to come up with a response and the response he came up with wasn’t a particularly good one.

“We’ll see.”

…

“Ziyal, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I have to do this, Jake. It’s not about him. It’s for me. I need to end this on my own terms. You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to. In fact, you should probably go. It could be dangerous.”

“That’s exactly why I’m here. If your dad goes crazy at you, I don’t want you to have to face it alone.”

Loréna, Mursa’s new friend, had located Dukat’s quarters and Ziyal decided to pay him a visit. It was one last confrontation before she turned away from her father for good. It was about closure for her. She knew now that there was no way to reason with Dukat.

Dukat. Ziyal found herself thinking of more as Gul Dukat than as her father. That man was a stranger. That stranger was a genocidal dictator, a narcissist who betrayed his people for people, a serial abuser of women. The dictator, the narcissist, the abuser. A monster. Not her father. That man wasn’t even real. She’d been rescued by an illusion. But, she’d learned to see through it and was ready to let the illusion go.

Dukat actually looked happy to see Ziyal at first. He was angry about something, but when she came into the room, he smiled. It didn’t look like he was forcing it. He pretended that Jake wasn’t there.

“Ziyal! What a pleasant surprise! It’s good to see you. I really must apologize for my behavior back on the station. You’re a grown woman now and you had the right to make your own choices.”

“You don’t really believe that. You’re just saying what you think will make me forgive you. I can forgive you for that, Father. I can forgive you for treating me like an insubordinate soldier. I can forgive you for lying to avoid hurting my feelings. There are lots of other little things that I forgive you for, but I’m not here to talk about them. I want to talk about the big things, the things I can’t forgive you for.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s not just the things you told me about. All your stories about the Occupation, that all goes without saying. It’s strange. When someone kills millions of people, it’s easy to act like it didn’t happen. It’s such a big number that millions of people have to become one crowd. But, the things individual people do to other individual people are far more memorable. Perhaps I should list the relevant names and dates for the sake of historical accuracy.”

“Ziyal, please-"

“In 2366, having sent away your last mistress, you coerced dozens of Bajoran women into sleeping with you. One of these women was Lirbul Batare, age 25, an artist’s apprentice from the Rakantha Province. She wasn’t a member of the Bajoran Resistance. I don’t think she ever told you, but she was quite close to the Tora family. Tora Naprem divorced from her husband, Lirbul Bakris shortly after arriving on Terok Nor. She was Bakris’ second wife. Batare was Naprem’s stepdaughter.”

“Naprem was barely any older than her!”

“Let’s not get distracted by Lirbul family drama. Batare hated you for taking my mother away from her father. Losing her drove him to madness and Batare was the only family he had left to take care of him. You ruined her life. She tried to kill you. When she failed, three innocent men were blamed for it. She begged you to let them go and you said you only would if she performed certain favors. She couldn’t quite bring herself to do it, even though her mentor, the artist she was studying under, the man who saved her from her mad father, was one of the accused. She tried to kill you twice, both in bombings that she knowingly led you into. She planned to die herself. After losing her mentor, she had even more reasons to want you dead. There was a second assassination and she succeeded in killing herself, but she failed to kill you. She was willing to die because of you. She wanted to die because of you.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“Constable Odo felt bad about having three innocent men killed, so he studied up the real culprit, learned what he should’ve known about her. Nerys gave me his notes because I wanted to know about her. As for why I knew enough to want to know about her, it’s complicated. Some spacial anomaly meant that Garak, Sisko, and I got thrown into one of Odo’s flashbacks in some attempt at forming a link. Each of us took on the identity of one person there. I was Lirbul Batare. I thought I almost broke the timeline, not knowing exactly how I’d ended up who, where, and when I was. My only goal was to save the lives of my friends.”

“Ziyal, wait. Are you implying that you-“

“I didn’t know that the real Batare didn’t make the same choice and that what I experienced was just me. Since it was all in Odo’s mind, it never really happened either. For once, you didn’t do anything, at least not to me. I’m not asking for an apology.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t plan on speaking to you ever again and I thought you should know just how familiar I am with your many crimes.”

For a moment, Dukat was speechless. Ziyal lied about why she told Dukat about her experience as Batare. She did it because she felt like she needed to confront it, to say it out loud, especially after finding out that it wasn’t really Batare who made that choice. It was a choice Ziyal made so that Garak wouldn’t die. She wanted to save Sisko and Odo, too, but, when she made her choice, she thought of Garak. She just couldn’t let him die, not even as some dream version of someone else. It wasn’t because she’d been infatuated with him. She knew that Garak had Julian and that was that. She’d already turned her attentions elsewhere by that point. Saving Garak was more like defending her family.

She let go of one father to save another.

Dukat finally spoke, not to Ziyal, but to Jake.

“I knew it was a bad idea to leave her in the hands of your father. Humanity has corrupted her to the point that she won’t recognize her father. I thought it was Garak I had to worry about, but no. She turned away from me for you.”

“Father, he had nothing to do with this.”

“Yeah, I just came here to support my…friend.”

“There’s no need to lie, Mr. Sisko. I know exactly what you are to each other. Human males might not leave a mark, but I remember our little meeting on the Promenade…You know, I almost pity you.”

“What?”

“You have no idea, do you? Ziyal has taught you nothing about Cardassians. We consider sentiment a weakness and have to be very careful when we fall under its influence. Wives and children are necessary and the most wonderful things a man could have, but if that man makes enemies, those enemies see those wives and children as easy targets. Now, I’d never harm my daughter, of course, but both she and your father are determined to make enemies of me, so I’m afraid that puts you in the line of fire. Remember how I settled my quarrel with Garak?”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Like with his case of sentiment, I don’t want to harm you. You’re no more than a child and I try to avoid harming children. I hope it doesn’t come down to that, but there are others out there less merciful than I am and if you want to get involved with Cardassians you should be aware of that.”

Ziyal wasn’t sure what sort of threat Dukat was going for. What other enemies did she or Captain Sisko have that he could go to? If he wanted to do to Jake what he couldn’t do to her, he’d probably be beaten, tortured, possibly even killed. Even though she knew that Dukat was unstable, she was still shocked enough to panic and beg.

“Father, leave him out of this! Please! Be angry with me if you have to, be angry with Captain Sisko if you have to, but don’t hurt Jake! He never did anything wrong.”

…

Ziyal’s pleas reminded Garak of his own. Once, when he was hallucinating from lack of sleep, he saw Enabran Tain hurt Julian and he begged like he would’ve as a child. He begged Tain to let Julian go, to hurt him instead. Julian wasn’t bad like he was. But this was real. Ziyal was begging her real father not to hurt her real lover. Garak still wasn’t sure why Mursa went to him and not to Narin, but he understood that this was definitely where he needed to be.

“Dukat.”

“Garak.”

“We’ve seen surprisingly little of each other.”

“I’m not surprised at all. We’ve both been very busy. I’ve been representing the interests of Cardassia and you’ve been babysitting your dear doctor and his little freakshow.”

Garak knew better than to be provoked. Dukat knew how to make him angry.

“Doctor Bashir can handle his own medical research. I merely provide moral support, and to be on hand to repair his uniform if it becomes damaged. You never know these days. Right now, I’m not needed at the hospital. I came here to see that this lovely young couple wasn’t getting into any trouble. It seems that I was right to be concerned. Ziyal, Jake, you’d best come with me.”

The pair looked incredibly thankful for Garak’s rescue. He looked casual as he strolled through the underground halls and Jake and Ziyal did their best to follow suit, the latter being slightly better at it than the former.

“I actually do have to get back to work and you two need to stay in a public space so you don’t get caught alone again.”

“We didn’t get caught. I went to see Dukat to tell him that I knew what he was, that I don’t forgive him, and that I won’t be coming back to him. It was reckless, I know, but it wasn’t really meant as a strategic move. I just needed to have the last word.”

“I’ve often found that the need to have the last word can easily lead someone to the last word they’ll ever say.”

“Fair enough.”

“If you need to work through your emotions by talking about them, perhaps it would be wiser to see a counselor.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. So, where are we going?”

“There’s a lovely little cafe that Narin recently discovered. He said he’d take Mursa there for lunch and they should still be there. It’s just on the other side of these two buildings.”

Jake laughed.

“You want us to stay out in a public place and you’re leading us through an alleyway?”

“You have adult supervision.”

“We’re all adults here. Ziyal’s twenty and I’m eighteen.”

“You might be of age legally, but you still have a lot to learn before it would be wise to consider you complete adults. You’re almost there, but you still have a ways to go.”

They reached the cafe intact and had a lovely time with Narin and Mursa. It was Mursa who cheered everyone up, telling stories about how she was teaching her new friends, Kjannhan and Loréna how to spy and that the latter had been giving Mursa reports on the meetings between the Trapisans and the Dominion.

“Dukat actually tried to poison Tekeny! It’s okay, though. Loréna caught him.”

“It explains why he was in such a bad mood.” Jake commented.

“It also might’ve been because of what Kjannhan told me. Ruvara busted Dukat and called him out for the poisoning thing, but she did it by beating him in Gebur and revealing what a sore loser he is!”

That wasn’t good. The Trapisans were playing with fire. They’d probably never encountered a man as dangerous as Gul Dukat before. It was a serious problem with the planet. The harsh environment led to the Trapisans prioritizing survival above all else and they believed in strength and safety in numbers. They needed every person they could find and they didn’t dare to make any enemies. So, they never fought amongst themselves. They never had war. Violence was basically unknown to them. The Federation would call it a paradise, despite the horrid weather. But, there was always a problem with paradise: nobody knew what to do when things went wrong.

Garak also found it quite strange that two different worlds facing the same crisis, an inhospitable climate causing a lack of resources, developed completely opposite solutions. Cardassia had a powerful state and a strong military, while Trapis IV saw both as a waste of time.

Garak knew that it was wrong to think of the Trapisans as naive or childish. Their careless honesty came from a lack of interest in deception. Their love of games actually strengthened their minds. But, Ruvara didn’t fall for any of Dukat’s lies, so it wasn’t as if they were oblivious to the realities of politics. But, they clearly didn’t understand that outsmarting and humiliating a man like Dukat was not a game. He’d make them pay for it and he wouldn’t do it in the spirit they’d approached him in. He attempted murder and the Trapisans punished him by demonstrating that he was petty to do so and that he made himself look bad. They wouldn’t detain him until they had definite proof of his crimes and then his fate would depend upon a public vote, which was rarely ever an efficient process. Even the Federation was better organized.

“Mursa, do you know where your friends ran off to?”

“I think Kjannhan’s still at the game center with Weyoun. I don’t know where Loréna is.”

A quick search revealed that Kjannhan was not at the game center, nor was Weyoun. Ruvara claimed that Weyoun left the game center shortly after Dukat did and she assumed that he’d followed him back to their quarters. Kjannhan said he was going to look for Loréna. Ruvara never asked why Garak was so frantically searching for the children. She understood that Dukat and Weyoun brought danger to the area. She’d only allowed them free reign because she didn’t know what else to do. Trapis IV had never needed security or policing. Their defense systems were mostly meant to shield them from the weather. Their weapons were designed for hunting and rarely used, usually stored in a vault to prevent people from doing more hunting and killing than what the community considered necessary. Garak got the feeling that from the way they talked about these subjects, Trapis IV had known some small amount of violence. They didn’t see murder as a completely foreign concept.

They ended up in the alleyway by the cafe, the one that Jake was rightly suspicious of. Dukat must’ve kept moving, only arriving at this location after Garak, Mursa, Narin, Ziyal, and Jake had all left. Dukat himself had already moved on from the alleyway. He’d left Kjannhan behind. He was bleeding heavily and barely conscious. He’d taken a severe blow to the head and almost certainly had a concussion. But, for a brief second he was able to face Garak, his front eyes unfocused, but his peripheral eyes steady.

“Loréna…Weyoun was…”

All five of his eyes closed. Garak thanked the local gods that the boy was still breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was pretty heavy...Dukat kind of does that. The next chapter won't be any better. It might be a bit worse tbh. I was reluctant to release these chapters. 
> 
> The next chapter is complete and will be up soon. The chapter after that will calm things down a bit, then it'll finally be time for Empok Nor.
> 
> Also, you might notice that Jack sounds a little different in this chapter than in previous chapters. He sounds a lot more "normal" to himself and the other Augments, so his dialogue when he's the PoV character cuts out various verbal tics that he isn't entirely aware of.


	27. For a Broken Bucket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weyoun has an existential crisis over the existence of children and is now certain that Dukat is completely insane. Desperate to cover up his crimes, Dukat is not above using violent methods to silence spying children. The Trapisans are naturally furious and Garak still doesn't understand how their society even works.
> 
> CW: Children get hurt. No one dies, but a teenager is beaten up "offscreen" and a little girl is threatened and poisoned. I sincerely hope that this will remain the darkest chapter I've ever written in terms of disturbing acts of violence.

_Around an Hour Prior:_

_This was a uniquely bad idea. Dukat’s assassination plan had been thwarted by a spying child, a fact that he learned from the girl’s older brother, whom Dukat believed deliberately humiliated him in a game. Nothing was going to come of it. Even after Dukat had a fight with his daughter, nothing was going to come of it. Weyoun was sure of it. It wasn’t until the boy, a spy like his sister, was spotted by Dukat that things began to go wrong._

_Weyoun had no love of senseless violence. He did what was necessary to serve the Founders, and sometimes that meant that people got hurt, but it was all for a good cause. Cardassians as a race seemed to have a similar philosophy regarding the Cardassian state. It seemed that Dukat wasn’t a typical Cardassian. How did it serve the Founders or Cardassia to pick a fight with an adolescent?_

_Kjannhan, the Trapisan boy, from Weyoun’s perspective, was a harmless child. Vorta were never children and knew little about them, but it seemed to Weyoun that the boy was intelligent, as he’d demonstrated in their game of Gebur, and he was more level-headed than Dukat, as seen in how he handled Dukat’s accusations of rigging the game. So, when Dukat turned on him in a rage, Kjannhan stood his ground without echoing his opponent’s anger. As Trapisans were unaccustomed to keeping secrets, Kjannhan betrayed his sister without interrogation, most likely not understanding that it was a betrayal. This wasn’t about information. The boy had become a symbol of Dukat’s humiliation._

_Weyoun wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do when the conflict turned physical. Dukat was the leader of a Dominion world. Was he supposed to work with him? Was he supposed to do nothing? Flee? Get help for the boy? Luckily for him, he didn’t have to make a decision. He heard a child’s scream, that of Loréna, the spying sister. She was a witness to Dukat’s crime and would surely unleash the wrath of Trapis IV upon him. Weyoun didn’t want to cause some major diplomatic incident with a world that seemed reluctant to fight. Loréna was clearly very young, not even an adolescent, and already frightened. Perhaps she could be persuaded into keeping this whole mess a secret. Pretending to help Dukat without a command, Weyoun lured the girl away in the direction of the guest quarters. He could hear Kjannhan call for her as they left, followed by the sound of a blow, a yelp of pain, and then eerie silence._

_Weyoun wouldn’t have been able to physically subdue Loréna, but he didn’t have to. The girl followed him willingly. She seemed to think that she was doing something to save her brother. Weyoun led her into the guest quarters he shared with Dukat. He didn’t lock the door. If Loréna noticed the door being locked, she’d panic. Instead, he sat down at the low table in the center of the room and offered her a seat across from him. She had tears in her eyes, but she spoke calmly._

_“Is Kjannhan going to die?”_

_“I don’t know. Honestly, this whole thing was rather sudden.”_

_“There once was a man who broke his djar bucket. He needed to fix it quickly, so he patched it up with some sticks by the stream. But, those sticks were the cover of an arpág dam. Looking for material to repair the den, the man chopped down the djar tree and knocked it over. The dying tree made a very loud noise and that noise scared away the birds. Without the birds, the gods couldn’t see into the forest, so they didn’t know when to send the rain and the stream dried up and the trees didn’t grow and his commune became hungry and thirsty. He didn’t want them to know that it was his fault, so he ran away into the forest. Because it was all dried up, there was no food or water. He found a herd of purrhim. He didn’t want to carry more meat than he could eat, so he killed the smallest one. The smallest purrhim was a child, so it’s bhesal killed him back.”_

_“That’s an interesting story. Why did you tell it?”_

_“Because Dukat’s becoming that man. He did some bad things and Tekeny found out. He tried to kill Tekeny so he wouldn’t talk, but he got caught. Now he wants the people who caught him to be quiet, so he hurt Kjannhan and he’s gonna hurt me, too.”_

_“One crime used to cover a crime committed to cover another and so on and so forth.”_

_“The story is about being careful when solving problems so you don’t create worse ones. I learned it from my teacher. Grófél knows lots of stories. Little stories like that are usually just for lessons.”_

_She was aware of the danger she was in, but she also wasn’t really reacting to it. She didn’t trust Weyoun, but she wasn’t afraid of him. Her two front eyes, the more expressive ones that most resembled the two of a Vorta, were now completely clear. No tears, no signs of fear or anger. She was simply waiting to see what happened next. She saw Dukat as a threat, saying that he was going to hurt her, but she saw Weyoun separately from him. Weyoun knew that one of the reasons the Founders made the Vorta so weak was for deception. They couldn’t do much harm by themselves, so people weren’t careful enough around them. This wasn’t abnormal. Dukat was like a Jem’Hadar in this case, simply the more obvious of the two threats._

_If there was nothing truly abnormal about Loréna, then why did Weyoun feel abnormal around her? He tried to study her face, searching for signs of whatever he was sensing from her, but she seemed frustratingly neutral. Her outer eyes were covered by her hair, which seemed to be the current fashion among Trapisans. Trapisan facial features were diverse, but hers were closer to the range of Humans. Her hair was vaguely golden in shade and quite wavy. It went past her shoulders and some of it fell into her front eyes. Of course, there was a part in the middle to keep the fifth, central eye uncovered. Well, uncovered by hair, anyway. Trapisans had a fondness for jewelry and decoration and they often wore transparent, colored cases over their fifth eyes. Different colors had different meanings, but Weyoun couldn’t remember them. Loréna’s was orange, the same shade as her bhesal. A child trying to appear more adult by wearing her mother’s make-up. Weyoun had heard of it, but Vorta were without children and Jem’Hadar grew quickly. He didn’t really understand._

_“You’ve been quiet for a very long time.”_

_Weyoun was caught off-guard by the sudden remark, but he tried to disguise it well._

_“I was just thinking.”_

_“About what?”_

_“About you.”_

_“What about me?”_

_“Vorta are never children, you know. I’m still not used to seeing them.”_

_“Does it scare you?”_

_“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”_

_Weyoun was being too honest. Did children often have this effect upon adults?_

_“We’re not all that different. We’re smaller and there are things we can’t do yet, but we’re the same species. If it makes you uncomfortable, you can pretend that I’m just a really short grown-up.”_

_“That would be inadvisable.”_

_She laughed, one of those small, high-pitched, squealing laughs known as a “giggle”. It was a very weird sound._

_“You’re probably right.”_

_Loréna stopped laughing when she heard footsteps. Dukat was returning home. She had the good sense to be afraid of him. He’d beaten her older brother. When he entered the room, she backed away, but there was nowhere to escape to. Dukat seemed to have calmed down a bit and he smiled at the girl, perhaps trying to look benevolent, but it wasn’t particularly convincing._

_“I’m not going to hurt you.”_

_“I don’t think I should believe you.”_

_The child was clever enough to see through lies, even though she most likely had little experience with them. Weyoun could also tell that Dukat was lying, though he hoped that he was wrong. For some reason, Weyoun didn’t want this child to be hurt. He didn’t understand children, but on some level, he understood Loréna as an innocent whose innocence needed to be preserved, though he wondered if she’d be better off without it, if she was more aware of the danger around her, of what the wrong person could do to her, that she could be killed by an adult who lacked the instinct to spare her._

_“Perhaps not, but I don’t see any reason for violence here. You’re a smart girl. You can understand that the events of today need to be kept a secret.”_

_“If I refuse, and you hurt me, you won’t be able to keep it a secret. Even if I’m dead, you’ll be a suspect. Kjannhan will be found and he might be alive.”_

_“And if he isn’t?”_

_“Who else has a motive? There’s nothing you can do to cover yourself. You can only make it worse.”_

_“Maybe that’s true, but would you really be willing to die to have me punished for your murder?”_

_“I don’t want to die, but killing me won’t solve your problems anyway.”_

_“Then we’ll take murder off the table. What else could we do to ensure your cooperation?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_“Alright then. I suppose we’ll have to let you expose us. But, we can make you regret it. We can release you, alive but very unwell. We’ll be caught, but you’ll suffer more consequences than we will.”_

_“That’s not very practical.”_

_“It would teach you a lesson. Don’t interfere in the business of adults if you’re not ready to be punished as one. Cardassians have a wide variety of ways of punishing alien criminals. Would you like to learn about them?”_

_Finally, there was fear. Weyoun could tell that she was afraid. Trapisans most likely had no concept of torture, but the child had an imagination. Perhaps she’d heard stories about alien monsters who’d hurt little girls who made them angry. She stayed aware of the threat._

_Weyoun didn’t listen as Dukat listed various Cardassian punishments, most of which had been inflicted solely on Bajorans, with the law preferring prison sentences and quick executions for Cardassian citizens. Loréna’s brave resolve failed. She began to cry. She fell to the floor and curled up in a ball, Dukat’s shadow looming over her. Still, when she found her voice, she spoke calmly through her tears._

_“Don’t do it. Either let me go or let me die.”_

_Weyoun had had enough. This was clearly pointless. Loréna had made it perfectly clear that no torture would prevent her from exposing Dukat’s crimes. This purely out of spite. Even for Dukat, this was extreme. According to the records the Vorta had been required to study about the various rulers of the Alpha Quadrant, Dukat was capable of being a cruel dictator, but he had some limits. His policies as Prefect of Bajor sometimes led to the deaths of children. The Bajoran Resistance often recruited the young, so children were interrogated sometimes, though many interrogators wouldn’t go through with it. But, Dukat was a father. A father who genuinely cared for his children, from what Weyoun had heard. He wouldn’t torture a little girl as some sort of vengeance, would he? Dukat was growing more and more unstable. Something had to be done. But, at the moment, Weyoun’s priority was avoiding a major diplomatic incident. Loréna was not only a child, but the daughter of a woman who seemed to be an important government official._

_“This violence is senseless. Dukat, follow me outside. We need to speak in private.”_

_Luckily, Dukat listened and followed. The girl remained frozen in place._

_“We had one mission. We came here to retrieve Tekeny Ghemor and persuade the Trapisans to sign a treaty to remain neutral! The Founders don’t want the Trapisans to view the Dominion as enemies. We had a mission, a specific purpose for being here, and you failed in that purpose.”_

_“Then you can punish me once we’re done here. How do you suggest we handle the girl?”_

_“I don’t know. Perhaps if we personally return her to her parents, confess to our actions, and make sure that Kjannhan is found alive, they’ll be more willing to show mercy.”_

_“Kjannhan is unlikely to remember how he was hurt…What if we could make Loréna forget as well?”_

_“You’re not going to beat anyone else.”_

_“There are other ways. A non-lethal poison might do it. If her mind is deprived of oxygen for long enough, it could cause brain damage that might either cause amnesia or prevent her from speaking.”_

_“You really have gone mad, haven’t you?”_

_“I have something that won’t cause any permanent damage. Once her mind is restored, she’ll remember that we threatened her and she’ll think twice before defying us again.”_

_“This isn’t going to work.”_

_“I’m going to go to the ship to get the drug. I’ll bring it back to you and you find a way to get her to ingest it.”_

_“Why me?”_

_“She trusts you.”_

_There was something disturbing about betraying Loréna’s trust. Betrayal was sometimes necessary to serve the Founders. It was the trust of this one girl. Was she somehow beneficial to the Founders? Was that why she needed to be preserved? Weyoun was beginning to worry that he’d developed some sort of genetic defect. Whatever it was, he had to ignore it. Today, he’d do what was asked of him. Tomorrow, he’d think of a way to get rid of Dukat. His instability was a threat to the Dominion._

_The poison was a powder that was fairly easily hidden in djar. Loréna accepted the drink. She was reluctant, so Weyoun drank some to prove that it wasn’t poisoned. She had no way of knowing that Vorta were immune to most forms of poison._

_She could taste the powder. She knew it was coming. But, by then, it was too late. Weyoun watched he struggle to breathe and lose consciousness. With her last full breath, she begged Weyoun to help her, as if this wasn’t his fault. When she went still, she appeared to be peacefully sleeping. Weyoun brought her to the hospital himself. It was the least he could do for her._

…

The hospital was surprisingly calm and still. Garak had told Narin to take Mursa home. She blamed herself for the whole affair, because she encouraged Kjannhan and Loréna to spy. Of course, Mursa’s interest in spying was inspired by Garak, so he felt guilty as well. As other doctors, Julian and Kelas both came to the hospital to see if they could be of any help.

Kjannhan was going to live. He would even most likely make a fully recovery. Trapisan medical science was quite advanced and they were in the process of tested an experimental neural regenerator that could potentially heal the brain as quickly as a dermal regenerator could heal the skin. It wouldn’t do anything for mental illness caused by anything other than physical brain damage, but it was perfect for this case. However, it was a work in progress and it would clearly take a while to get everything set up.

Garak planned to briefly check on the Ghemors before going to help Laezala and Ruvara in their search for Loréna. Jake and Ziyal were already out with them. But, it turned out that the search was unnecessary and Garak would be staying in the hospital for longer than he thought. There was a commotion in the waiting area. Garak and Julian hurried out to see Weyoun struggling to carry an unconscious Loréna. At first, Garak thought that his helping meant that he wasn’t responsible for her condition. He was wrong. While Julian went to alert Rinku, Weyoun confessed.

“The Dominion takes full responsibility for what has been done. On behalf of the Dominion, I will accept whatever punishment you deem fit.”

“I’m not an official of this planet. I’m not the one you should be confessing to.”

Weyoun had to have known that. He was apologizing to the first person he saw. Was he genuinely distraught by whatever had occurred?

“Tell the doctors that Loréna’s poisoning was my fault. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I was the one who gave it to her.”

“If you don’t even know what it is, why do you have it in the first place?”

“Gul Dukat. The plan was his but the actions were mine.”

A group of people came to help Loréna. This was the first time Garak saw any doctors other than Rinku and he was glad that they actually had them. Garak was able to contact Ruvara via communicator and explain the situation. In absence of an actual police force, Garak was the one to escort Weyoun to the the election hall, the only place that resembled a government building, to await whatever passed for a trial on Trapis IV. The inefficiency of it all was rather irritating, but Trapisan society seemed peaceful and organized despite their lack of understanding of law and order. Weyoun stayed in a meeting room with Ruvara while Laezala went to see her daughter in the hospital. Garak offered to help with Weyoun’s interrogation, but Weyoun was already willing to confess everything. Garak offered the same for when Dukat was found, but Ruvara was reluctant to accept.

“A lot of blood has been shed recently. I’d prefer to avoid contributing to the mess if at all possible. If you’d like to help, find Dukat and bring him here. Then, it’s up to you what you do next, but don’t hurt anyone. We haven’t yet decided how to handle this, so you’ll just have to be patient.”

For a crisis situation, the mood was calm and the pace was slow. Things happened when they happened with little drama. Éskan, the man who’d been in-charge of the transporter earlier, figured out that Dukat had returned to his ship. The ship was forbidden from leaving orbit, but no attempts were made to bring Dukat back down to the planet. He was basically imprisoned there. A council met in the election hall where Laezala explained the situation. Weyoun repeated events from his perspective, making no attempts to make himself look good. He knew that the Trapisans wouldn’t forgive him and the only thing to do to save face was to quietly accept responsibility. This wasn’t a true act of remorse, as far as Garak could tell. It was simply politics.

The council quickly voted to have all Dominion citizens on the planet board their ship and leave the Trapis system. They didn’t seem to want to punish them. They just wanted to get rid of them. Weyoun was the only Dominion citizen on the planet and he went quietly. Garak thought that would be the end of it, but there was to be another election. Laezala explained it all to the mob.

“We’ve spent a long time deciding what to do about the Dominion and the growing tensions between the Alpha and Gamma Quadrants. We’ve realized recently that it’s simply not like us to close our system when others are in need of help that we can provide. It’s time that we take proper action and we need to decide what that action will be as quickly as possible. We’ve hosted Dominion citizens on this planet only one time and it ended in disaster, with two children in the hospital.

“I should like to present a radical idea. It’s something risky, something that we’ve never done before, but I believe that it is finally necessary, as unfortunate as that may be. It’s time to go to war. We must resist the Dominion in every way be can, violently if that’s what it takes. We’ve seen that their representatives consist of dangerous madmen who, without any treatment and placed in a position of power, can harm innocents, even children, without remorse, and cowards who let them have their way purely to maintain order. These people value orderly conduct over the safety and well-being of people, our people, their people, and all other people they can find. If something isn’t done, more people, more children, will suffer, even die at their hands. All known members of the Dominion now present a threat to us all and the only thing we can do to stop it is to join forces with those already in opposition: The United Federation of Planets and The Klingon Empire. Their people are different from us, as different as Vorta and Cardassians, and they might wish to alter our way of life in their own image, but, right now, we need them, and, though they don’t know it, they need us.”

…

“I’m sorry, Iliana. It’s grown quite chaotic in here. Multiple children are currently in urgent care.”

“I get it. The old are supposed to die and the young aren’t.”

“Should I inform Kira that this might be her last chance to say goodbye?”

“She won’t listen.”

“It must be worth a try.”

“Save your breath.”

Julian wasn’t going to give up so easily, however. He went to see Kira and found that Narin was already in her quarters.

“I’ve seen his file, too, Kira. It’s now being treated as a public record, at least in Trapisan archives. Tekeny Ghemor was nineteen when Kiessa was destroyed. He’d been in the military for less than a year and he was only one of four hundred soldiers at the monastery. There’s no way to know if he even fired a shot.”

“He shouldn’t have been there at all.”

“And what would’ve happened to him if he refused? He’d have been declared a traitor to the state and publicly executed. What choice did he truly have?”

“You really want me to go back to him, don’t you?”

“I can’t make the decision for you. But, I know that he wants you there and he’s more than atoned for all his sins and should be allowed to die in peace.

“What does it matter to you?”

There was a pause in the conversation, which made it a good enough time for Julian to make his presence known.

“Hello, Kira.”

“What is it?”

“I thought you should know…Tekeny’s condition’s deteriorated. He’ll be dead within the hour.”

“Thank you for the information, Doctor.”

“That’s it? ‘Thank you for the information’? Tekeny’s dying.”

“I heard you.”

“Kira, he wants to see you.”

“I don’t want to see him.”

In the midst of all this chaos, Julian worried that Tekeny might be forgotten. Yes, Iliana was there, but grieving alone was almost as bad as dying alone. 

“Fine. Do what you want. But you’re making a mistake. Regardless of what Ghemor’s done, he doesn’t deserve to have someone deliberately let him down in his last moments.”

“It’s easy for you, isn’t it? How many innocent people did Garak torture and kill? Has he told you? Does he even know?”

“You’re trying to upset me to get me to go away. It won’t work. It didn’t work when Elim did it either.”

“What if I simply ask you to leave?”

“Forgive me for trying to give you another chance.”

…

“It won’t be much longer, Father.”

“I know.”

Iliana held her father’s hand and listened to his breathing grow shallower and shallower. She knew that Nerys had gone through this before, but it wasn’t one of the memories Iliana had been given. It happened a few years after she went under deep cover. No one else here understood what she was going through. They either had living fathers or their fathers had been so awful that they didn’t really mourn them.

It was a miracle when Nerys showed up. She silently approached Tekeny’s deathbed and took his other hand, the one that Iliana wasn’t holding. Even though there was no way that he could see, he turned to face her.

“I didn’t think you would come.”

“For a while there, neither did I.”

Iliana took Nerys’ empty hand with her empty hand and they sat in a silent circle, waiting for the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been slow with the last few chapters for several reasons:
> 
> 1\. Burnout. The first two stories in this series came out so fast that I exhausted myself a bit.
> 
> 2\. These chapters have been hard to write. When I decide to go dark, it's hard to keep myself from going too dark.
> 
> 3\. No one's commented on this fic in over a month and I've been wondering if I'm not the only one experiencing burnout with it. If the story is overwhelming people or losing their interest, it might be better to take a break, perhaps try some other projects, but I'm not sure of anything yet.
> 
> Happy New Year! Here's to hoping that 2021 will be slightly better than 2020.


	28. Fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iliana, Kira, and Ziyal all talk about their fathers and the latter decides that she needs a better one. 
> 
> CW: Ziyal talks more about her Batare experience, which is always disturbing. Garak somewhat casually brings up that he used to torture people.

It all came to an end rather abruptly. Tekeny died peacefully without ever deciding on a leader for the Cardassian resistance. Nobody had a chance to ask the question. Kelas identified the poison used on Loréna. Garak had the antidote back on Deep Space Nine, so he promised to ship some back to Trapis IV when he returned. Loréna would be alright in stasis until then. Kjannhan recovered without incident. The only major event was that the Trapisans had voted to declare war on the Dominion. Having no experience with warfare, they needed advisors and had recruited the various augments to serve that purpose. There were also plans for the augments to visit Deep Space Nine some time in the next few months. Julian could try again to befriend them. He wasn't sure if their random promotion to war council was a good idea, but the Trapisans seemed to think it was and it wasn't his place to question it.

Back on the Purrhim, everyone had paired off. Narin and Mursa were one room, where the former tried to convince the latter that the near-deaths of two children weren’t her fault. Jake and Ziyal were most likely talking about Dukat. Julian and Garak were probably talking about the augments and how little they’d accomplished with them. Kelas was also there, always the odd one out. Nerys and Iliana were alone, mourning their father’s death.

“It’s really not fair, isn’t it? With all that chaos with Dukat and Weyoun, nobody paid much attention to Tekeny. It’s almost like they forgot about him.”

“But we didn’t forget. We were there. Father didn’t die alone. What about Taban, our first father. How did he die?”

“Like most Bajorans did back then. He was attacked by Cardassians. I missed it by less than an hour, you know. I always told myself that it was just bad luck, bad timing, the will of the Prophets, but the truth is…I didn’t have to leave when I did. When the chance came to get revenge, I left him. I could’ve stayed a while longer, he begged me to, but I saw a chance to get away and I took it. I saw so much death during the Occupation…felt so much pain…But he was my father! My strength…And I couldn’t stand watching that strength slip away. So I ran.”

“That’s why you didn’t want to be with Tekeny, isn’t it?”

“He reminded me so much of my father. I couldn’t force myself to go through it all again.”

“But you did. You came back.”

“I realized that I owed it to him. I owed it to my father to get it right this time.”

“Thank you for that. I wouldn’t have been able to see my father die twice. You’re stronger than I am.”

“Luckily, you won’t have to go through that again.”

“Mursa will. Someday, Narin will die. She lost her father and she’ll have to lose another one.”

“When that happens, I’ll be there. She’ll need someone who can understand.”

…

It was late. Jake was fast asleep. Ziyal knew that everyone else probably was, too, but she couldn’t wait any longer. She couldn’t stop thinking about her father and her mother. She couldn’t stop thinking about Batare, a dead woman she never met, and yet she knew her far too well. Garak had told her to see a counselor, but she didn’t want to. She wasn’t looking for help or advice. She was seeking comfort, like when she’d have nightmares as a child. 

She wanted her father.

So, Ziyal went to Garak’s quarters and knocked on the door. Julian, with his stronger Human hearing, woke up first and came to answer the door.

“Ziyal? What is it? Is something the matter?”

“I…I don’t know. I want to talk to Garak. I don’t know why, but I just need to.”

“I understand. I’ll wake him up.”

Garak was already awake. He was a light sleeper. Julian only had to say Ziyal’s name to convince Garak to get out of bed.

“Ziyal?”

“I’m sorry to wake you.”

“It’s quite alright. Come on in and have a seat at the table. I’m afraid you’ll have to sit on the floor. Trapisans clearly aren’t very fond of chairs.”

Ziyal sat down and Garak sat down across from her.

“I’m assuming that this has something to do with Dukat.”

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’ve learned by now. It wasn’t Batare’s choice. It was mine.”

“Are you talking about how Batare persuaded Dukat to release her friends from prison and execution?”

“She didn’t. In real life, she didn’t. It’s not that it didn’t work. She just couldn’t go through with it. In the simulation, the timeline became different because I did it. I went through with it, because I wanted to save you. I didn’t know how much danger we were actually in, but I couldn’t risk it.”

“You did what you believed you had to do. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But why could I go through with it when Batare couldn’t? She wanted to save her friends, too.”

“And Dukat wasn’t her father.”

“Yeah…”

“When we discussed it after it happened, you decided that it was a choice you made and I told you that it wasn’t your fault.”

“But after that, I went back to thinking about Batare, someone separate from me. I convinced myself that Batare would’ve made the same choice if she’d gotten the chance. There was some other reason that she didn’t do it, other than just refusing. But the truth is that she’d rather have died than been with a Cardassian, especially Gul Dukat. Even worse, I was giving up more than she was. Maybe that’s why he accepted the deal so completely.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m only twenty. I’d never done anything like that before. Technically, I still haven’t, not in my own body.”

“Whether it was your body or not, if it wasn’t your choice, it doesn’t count.”

“But it was my choice! Haven’t you been listening?”

“Your choice was to give Dukat what he wanted or watch your friends die. What Dukat did to Batare was extortion. Back in the Obsidian Order, as an interrogator, if I told my subject to tell me what I needed to hear or suffer some sort of consequence, and they told me, I wouldn’t consider it their choice, but my conquest. I made them make that choice. That’s what Dukat was doing. It was his choice.”

“I get it. It just scares me that I was even capable of that.”

“In dangerous situations, we’re all capable of things we otherwise wouldn’t be able to imagine. Most people in peaceful societies would say that they couldn’t kill a man, but if their lives were threatened, they’d do it. When you’re in danger, or when someone you care about is in danger, it changes everything. The only times I’ve ever killed with my bare hands, without even the distance of a phaser, were both the results of people I loved being in danger. Well, the first time was in the middle of a struggle and the man was trying to kill me, too. But, the second time, the more recent example, was from Rakret H’ssti’er. He didn’t even see me coming.”

“It sounds heroic.”

“And taking an absurd risk to hopefully save the lives of three people isn’t?”

“I still wish it never happened.”

“So do I.”

“And I wish I had a different father.”

“So do I.”

“Jake says that people can actually pick their families and it kind of felt like we were doing that after you saved Julian from the Dominion. When he went back to the infirmary, we went to see him together. I felt like I was part of your family. It was nice. Why haven’t we done more things like that?”

“There hasn’t been much time for it. Julian’s parents visited the station and it was chaotic. He needed my undivided attention, just like you need it now. But, if things begin to settle down a little, we’ll all have time for each other. We can be a family.”

“I’d like that.”

“As would I. But, right now, what I’d really like is for us all to get some sleep.”

Julian had already gone back to sleep. He knew he wasn’t needed at the moment and had gone back to bed shortly after Ziyal had entered the room.

“You’re right. I’ll go to bed. May I join you at breakfast?”

“Of course.”

“Goodnight, Garak. Well, whatever passes for night to a Trapisan. Um…Nu ka kUra’I.”

“Nu ka kUra’I, Ziyallin. Rest well.”

…

Garak enjoyed the next few “days” on the Purrhim. Julian and Ziyal both wanted to explore the ship and he accompanied them to keep them both out of trouble. Ziyal acquired some Trapisan Gebur cards and they all tried to figure out how to play familiar card games with them. The matching symbols worked well with several Human games, namely “Go Fish” and “Old Maid”. But, Bajoran cards had specific religious symbols with no counterparts and all Cardassian card games required the cards to be numbered, so they were unfortunately impossible.

Julian had learned enough of the Trapisan language to understand the televised news updates. Why the Universal Translator didn’t cover these, Garak didn’t know. This sort of television was rarely used on most modern planets, so perhaps there was some incompatibility between the different technologies. Now that Julian could understand the broadcasts, he was quite excited about some of what was being announced.

“I knew that would work! Remember when I tried to cure the Jem’Hadar dependence on Ketracel-white? The Trapisans are starting a project with the same goal. If my research hadn’t been destroyed, I could’ve sent it to them and helped out. Perhaps I still can. I should contact the research team. This is perfect. The Trapisans know nothing about warfare, but they’re experts in medicine and they’ve been known to cure crippling genetic illnesses before, which is basically what the Jem’Hadar have.”

“I’m sure you know just how important doctors can be in times like this. You know, until now, I believed that the Dominion wouldn’t really care about the Trapis system. They can’t contribute much to the opposition against them. But, it’s clear that this declaration of war could actually cause serious damage to them. If they figure out how to cure dependence to Ketracel-white, they might cost the Dominion a large portion of its Jem’Hadar army.”

“All without killing a single one of them. The Dominion’s going to pay for what happened to those children.”

“And since no Jem’Hadar were involved in what happened, the Trapisan’s wrath won’t target them, even though they make up the majority of Dominion foot soldiers.”

“I’m definitely contacting the research team when we get back to the station. I remember some of what I learned before and I think I could help. I’ll do anything I can.”

“And I have no doubt in your skills, nor in your determination.”

…

There was no way to make the travel time short. Even at maximum warp, the distance between the Trapis system and Deep Space Nine was a lot bigger than it appeared on a star map. It took nearly two weeks. Upon returning to the station, everyone just collapsed into bed. 

The next few weeks would be spent catching up on work, especially when it came to the Cardassian refugees. Though, they did have a bit of help now. Elim sent the antidote to the poison that Weyoun had given Loréna and since she was the child of two very influential people, their gratitude extended to every Cardassian opposed to the Dominion. They were willing to host the refugees in the Trapis system. They actually had more room to spare than they thought. Trapis III, previously thought to be completely uninhabitable, was too hot for Trapisans, but the temperatures far from the equator were perfect for Cardassians. The only major problem was that the planet closer to Mars than Earth in size, so artificial gravity would need to be installed at the new settlements. 

So, everything was going back to normal, at least for a little while. Then, Miles had some difficulty with some routine station repairs. This was not the sort of thing Julian would’ve expected to go straight to hell, but such things are rarely ever predictable. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The bit of Kardasi used by Garak and Ziyal, Nu ka kUra'I, is the familial form of "I love you". This was explained in Unbreakable Bonds, but in case anyone forgot, Kardasi has three words for love: zIra is romantic, gehra is platonic (friendship love), and kUra is for family, both biological and chosen. So, Garak and Ziyal acknowledged each other as father and daughter. Also, the -lin suffix "Ziyallin" means something like "dear" or "valued". It's a term of endearment, but it's not exclusively romantic.
> 
> 2\. I keep referencing travel times, so I should explain that I'm using an online calculator http://www.aerth.org/Constellation/star_trek.asp and warp is not nearly as fast as you think. I use 53 Aquarii to stand in for Trapis, because it's probably the closest to where it's supposed to be. If you're writing Trek fics, you can also use this calculator to keep travel times consistent, though they'll often end up consistently long.
> 
> 3\. I use comments to determine what is and isn't working in this fic, so I highly encourage them :)


	29. Warp Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak and Julian accompany O'Brien's engineering team on a field trip to Empok Nor. It takes a while to get there.

Due to it’s location, Julian often thought of Deep Space Nine as a Bajoran station, not a Cardassian one. The Bajorans built it, it orbited their planet, and they had every right to it, as far as he was concerned. But, though it was Bajorans who put the pieces together, the technology itself was Cardassian. So, when things went wrong, Cardassians were often needed to fix it.

Deep Space Nine broke down all the time. Julian had heard Miles rant about it nearly every day for years. Usually, if there was a part that needed to be replaced but couldn’t be replicated, they’d be forced to contact Gul Dukat. That was no longer an option, so it was time to get creative. Miles planned to go to an abandoned station in the Trivas system and search for the necessary parts, as well as anything else useful. Since the abandoned station could be booby-trapped, a Cardassian needed to come along to disable the traps, which were most likely designed to only attack non-Cardassians. Elim was the obvious choice.

“But what’s that got to do with me?” Julian asked after he noticed that some of the things Elim was packing were actually his.

“An abandoned station can be a very dangerous place, even without booby-traps. People could get hurt and they’ll need a good doctor.”

“What about Kelas? If someone triggers a trap, he could get to them without becoming another target.”

“Chief O’Brien and his crew are mostly Human and all Federation. You’re the one they’re more likely to trust with their lives. Besides, I don’t want to leave you alone on the station for the amount of time the trip will take.”

“You’ve left me here before.”

“A while ago, you mentioned a man who might’ve been aware of your enhancements and expressed interest in you back at the Academy. I’ve been doing some research, and it’s possible that there are spies on the station keeping an eye on you. If they wish to make contact with you, they’ll want to get you alone to do it. My presence is the only thing fending them off.”

“You don’t even know who these people are or if they’re actually here or not. Perhaps you’re being a little bit paranoid.”

“I can’t help it. Cardassians are paranoid by nature. It’s what keeps us alive.”

“Very well. I’ll come along. I just didn’t want to witness you and Miles fighting through the entire trip. I suspect that you’ve only been getting along by avoiding one another unless you’re both worrying about me.”

“I promise to be on my very best behavior.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

…

Garak hated that runabouts could only go up to warp 5. At warp 5, the journey to Empok Nor, which was still within the Bajoran Sector, was six days. He’d be trapped in a runabout with Julian, Chief O’Brien, Nog, and four strangers, unimportant ensigns, for nearly a week, have a brief romp around an abandoned station, and then another week in a runabout.

The ensigns were two engineers and two security officers. This was an engineering mission, so Garak was willing to tolerate them, but he didn’t like having security along. When Starfleet denied being a military organization, it was because they were thinking of all the scientists and engineers who joined to do research, but Starfleet was full of soldiers. Security officers were the most obvious among them. Garak, like most Obsidian Order agents, knew to be wary around military people. Combine that with a smug sense of Federation justice, and Garak began to feel like these two might hunt him for sport, though Julian seemed certain that they wouldn’t.

“I’m not saying that you’re going to be friends. They might even be just as prejudiced as you think they are, but they’re professionals. They know their mission and they know that you’re on their team. They know better than to harass you unprovoked. Besides, I’m a higher rank than anyone else on this mission, so if they try anything, they’ll have to answer to me and I can easily have them reported.”

Garak wasn’t fully convinced, but he decided that this wasn’t worth arguing over. At least, not in public. The runabout was too small to allow real privacy.

Julian befriended the engineering ensigns immediately, and it became clear that Garak wasn’t the only one feeling abandoned. Chief O’Brien also seemed a bit isolated. He was actually bored enough to make conversation with Garak.

“So…How did Captain Sisko convince you to come?”

“How do you know I didn’t volunteer?”

“He threatened you, didn’t he?”

“Nothing so coarse. The captain bribed me. He offered to help me procure a larger space for my workshop. The latest dressmaking equipment is surprisingly bulky.”

In reality, with the increasing stress of the approaching war, Garak’s work space had begun to feel smaller than before. Julian, acting as Chief Medical Officer, had actually recommended to the captain that Garak should be allowed a bigger space to avoid triggering his claustrophobia and Garak was pretty sure he’d already been considering it. The captain approached him with the bribe and Garak agreed on the condition that Julian accompanied them.

When not attempting conversation with Chief O’Brien, a man who wasn’t much of a conversationalist outside of discussing his work and typical Human “small talk”, Garak listened to the conversations among the ensigns. He’d have to work with these people and he wanted to know who them first.

The two engineers were a Bolian named Boq’ta and a Human named Pechetti. Pechetti had quickly proven to be the most tolerable of the four. He was excited for his mission, devoted to his work, and seemed to have a fondness for Cardassian art and design. Boq’ta was clearly a close friend of his and further proof that he had no objections to working with aliens. The Bolian was far more anxious about exploring a booby-trapped station. He argued with his friend about it very early on in their journey.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into volunteering for this.”

“Beats working on the waste extraction system. Besides, how often does an engineer get to wear a phaser?”

The security officers, a pair of Humans, one female and one male, overheard.

“Hate to disappoint you, Pechetti, but the only thing you’ll be using that for is shooting voles. Empok Nor’s been abandoned so long, they’re going to be hungry.”

“Don’t worry, you play with your wrenches, we’ll watch your back.”

Both officers were quite irritating, as Garak had expected. Stolzoff, the woman, was dismissive of the dangers of her profession and Amaro, the man, was incredibly condescending towards everyone other than Stolzoff and the Chief. Like many in Starfleet, he didn’t believe that Nog belonged with them, though O’Brien was able to ensure that he was treated with respect.

Garak also had a bit of difficulty treating Nog with respect, but for different reasons than the Humans. Garak had brought along a Kotra board. He hadn’t expected anyone but Julian to be interested in the game, but he’d managed to convince Nog to try it out. It wasn’t going very well.

“I have to protect my assets.”

“This is not a financial transaction. Protecting your assets is what got you into trouble in the first place. You have to go on the offensive. You have to attack.”

“Your move.”

Once again, Nog had done nothing with his turn other than count his pieces like strips of latinum.

“This is maddening. Asking a Ferengi to play a Cardassian game is like asking a Klingon to chew with his mouth closed.”

“You’re being racist, Elim.” said Julian, randomly deciding to join the fun.

“It’s not racist if it’s true. Ferengi culture revolves around finances and Kotra is not about regrouping or hoarding assets. It’s about bold strategy and decisive action.”

“If you played a Ferengi game, you’d do just as poorly.”

“That’s a fair point. Your Human games have proven impossible.”

Julian went over to Nog’s side of the table and examined the situation he’d placed himself in. He had all of his pieces but virtually no territory to arrange them on.

“Nog, your assets aren’t much use to you if you don’t use them. I’m sure you can afford to make a few bold investments.”

Nog definitely needed the help, but seeing his Julian team up with someone else against him caused Garak to feel a hint of jealousy.

“You shouldn’t aid the enemy of your mate, Julian.” 

“I really should just stand back. Two against one’s not fair.”

“What about two against two. Chief, would you like to take us on?”

“No, thank you.”

“Why not take the chance to battle another Cardassian, like at Setlik III? You have a distinguished war record.”

“I’m not a soldier anymore. I’m an engineer.”

“I see. So, when you and Julian go into the holosuites for hours at a time you’re just repairing them?”

Julian seemed to find the situation very amusing.

“Elim, you know what that’s about. Our war games are just that: games.”

“So is Kotra.”

“Miles, are you upset that I’m playing with Elim instead of you? In our war games, we’re always on the same team.”

“We can discuss this another time.”

Pechetti arrived with a list of things the engineers were after, sorted into Must Have, Could Use, and Would Be Nice. It wasn’t Garak’s job on this mission to care about those things, though he did take notice when Pechetti wanted to look for Cardassian emblems and insignias. Chief O’Brien wasn’t amused.

“This is a salvage operation, Pechetti, not an opportunity to indulge your collecting obsession.”

“Right.”

Julian seemed to share Pechetti’s disappointment. He seemed to want to encourage his fellow Humans to develop an appreciation for Cardassian art, if not literature. Garak couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for teaching the young man good taste.

“Hey, Pechetti. I can ask Elim if he could find or make you something back on the station.”

Elim decided not to remind him that he was standing right there, nor that he wasn’t about to part with any of the few possessions he’d managed to bring with him into exile.

“Approaching Empok Nor, sir.”

Nog had been actually working while they were standing around and arguing. He was terrible at Kotra, but he wasn’t incompetent when it actually mattered, it seemed. Though it wasn’t particularly fair of him, Garak had difficulty taking Nog, or any Ferengi, for that matter, very seriously. Their devotion to squabbling over trinkets was comical at times. But, Garak didn’t dislike Nog or most of the other Ferengi he’d met. It was sort of the opposite problem from what he had with the Federation. He respected men like Captain Sisko and Chief O’Brien, but he didn’t like them. Julian, often seen as insufferable by his fellow Humans, was the only one that Garak found consistently tolerable. He liked Quark and his relatives, but it’d taken years to develop any respect for them. Nog actually wanting to be a member of Starfleet wasn’t helping his case, but Garak hoped he’d be proven wrong.

Getting onto the abandoned station was trouble. The transporters weren’t safe to use. Garak knew that the airlock would be booby-trapped and only a Cardassian could defuse the trap without triggering it. Both Nog and Julian volunteered for the task. Nog was just enthusiastic about his work, but Julian had some legitimate concerns.

“You’ll have to go out into open space to open the airlock from the outside. The spacesuits can be a bit…constricting.”

“I appreciate the warning, my dear, but I’m literally the only one who can do this. It will be alright. I’m feeling much better than I was in Dominion custody.”

“Good. I’m glad. Just be careful out there.”

“When am I ever not?”


End file.
